


Remember The Colors

by Effsnares



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Ableism, Blind Character, F/F, F/M, M/M, Nuzlocke Challenge, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, also they DIE, pokemon play an important role
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1334548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effsnares/pseuds/Effsnares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Happy birthday, loser. You’re picking a Pokémon and we're going adventuring.”</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Black's gotten quite used to hiding his life away with only a couple of crazy teenagers and a guide Lillipup with severe attitude problems to keep him company. When an opportunity to do something with himself arises, he finds himself setting off on a long journey filled with friendship, loss, villainous teams with disturbingly catholic undertones and a rather peculiar young man who is in desperate need of lessons on personal space.</p>
<p>Black's told he has green hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is Remember The Colors, an illustrated Pokémon Black and White version fanfiction that doubles as a Nuzlocke challenge. I'm cross-posting this from the Nuzlocke forums. While the story is written with the nuzlocke rules in mind, its characters and general plot do follow the games pretty closely, if not with a more serious twist. 
> 
> Warnings include graphic depictions of Pokémon violence, possible ableism and my own unfortunate inexperience with blindness, which may be reflected in the story. Be reassured it's not my intention to offend anyone with my ignorance! If you feel like there are things I could improve considering this matter, please do feel free to send me a message.
> 
> Without further ado - Remember the Colors, an illustrated White Nuzlocke.

  


Today is Black’s seventeenth birthday.

His fingers tremble as he clumsily zips up his jacket, adjusts his cap. Tries to find his shoes. Fails to do so. Fiddles with the frayed edges of his scarf before carefully wrapping it around his neck.

Today is Black’s seventeenth birthday. Today is also the day he's been preparing for many, many years.

“Are you alright?” Hitomi asks from across the room, voice worried. Her speech is generally clumsy and sometimes cracks into a growl before she can finish a sentence, but it's comprehensible enough, and honestly, Black couldn't care less; she makes his life so much easier that the small language barrier isn't even an issue anymore, hasn't been for years.

Black hears the pitter-pat of her delicate paws, the clattering of blunt claws on the floor, and starts when she nudges his leg. He twists his face into something he hopes resembles a smile. It probably doesn't come even close, but he tried and therefore should not be judged. 

He kneels down on the floor and reaches out his hand, palm outward. The Lillipup mercifully strains her neck to meet his hand halfway, leans into the gentle touch. Black's head-rubs are the best, he never forgets to scritch behind her ears, but, right now, Hitomi isn't comforted by the expert petting.

“No,” the boy admits. “But don’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t want to make White feel bad. It’s her big day.”

“She's too excited to feel bad,” Hitomi mutters. Black doesn’t answer.

Right on cue, the bedroom door flies open with a _slam_ and Black winces – he can almost hear the paint crumbling off the wall. “White,” Hitomi informs him. Black turns to face the doorway, attempting a smile once again, hoping desperately she won't see right through it. 

“Hey, baby brother,” his sister quips cheerfully and crosses the room to sit herself on his bed. She grabs Black's hand and places it on her shoulder; the gesture makes the smile on Black’s lips feels less forced, a little more genuine. He tugs at her hair. It’s grown so long. It's soft, too; she must've brushed it for a change. He bets it looks beautiful.

“You’re only thirteen minutes older than me,” Black reminds his sister and she laughs, a short, sweet sound.

“We don’t have time for your smartassery,” White quips playfully and stands, tugging him along. “Come on, everyone’s waiting on you.”

Black’s gut twists. This is one birthday-slash-leaving-home-party he really wouldn’t mind skipping. White’s cheerfulness only makes it worse and he kind of hates himself for thinking like this because, well, it’s his twin sister whom he adores and worships, but he kind of hopes she would just be more considerate. The thing is - he's prepared himself for this, he knows he can't have Pokémon, blindness and Pokémon Training don't really mix. But that doesn't mean he's still not kind of hurt about this - about how his sister gets to live her dream while he... well. Doesn't. Celebrating it in such a festive way is like rubbing salt into the wound.

But he doesn't say any of this, never has. Ever the wet blanket, Black just kind of lets her drag him down the stairs without complaints. Hitomi scuttles after them, eyeing White disdainfully. 

“Be careful,” the Lillipup mutters irritably. 

“Oh come on, it's not like he can't go down stairs without hurting himself,” White chirps back at Hitomi and reaches down to ruffle her head. “You’re his guide Pokémon! Guide him, if you're so worried!”

“White don’t take your hand away-!” The sudden disappearance of the hand pulling him along throws Black off balance, the momentum getting the better of him, and he stumbles, just barely managing to grab a hold of the railing. Hitomi barks in alarm, White just giggles and goes “whoops”, and, wow, that can’t be an acceptable way to react to your blind brother almost breaking his neck. 

“Oh gosh – Black! Did you hurt yorself?” The familiar voice of Bianca comes from right next to him. A pair of soft hands reaches up to grab Black’s face as he clings to the railing like it's his lifeline, heart thumping in his chest. 

“I’m fine, Bianca,” Black assures the girl and tries to half-heartedly bat her invading hands away from his jaw as he peels himself off the wall. “You can let go of my f-face, um, if you want?” 

Bianca keeps fussing over him until White, in a rare fit of mercy, tugs her away. Black cautiously walks down the rest of the stairs, immediately feeling his gut clench at the loud ripple of conversation floating in the living room. He's never done well in social situations, much less when there's this many people. But he's going to be fine. It's all fine. 

Someone bumps into him and a pair of unfamiliar hands grip his shoulders to steady him. "Sorry, lad," the man's voice says - Black thinks it might be Cheren's dad, but he's not too sure. He tries to tell him it's okay but finds he can't really move at all, it's loud, it's too loud, someone's asking him something and it's probably Professor Juniper -

it’s a mess of voices, he can’t focus, he doesn’t know which voice belongs to who and someone’s touching him, grabbing at his arm, and he doesn’t know who it is, Hitomi’s growling at them to back off and he tries to take a step back but there’s something blocking his way, it might be a chair - what the hell is a chair doing there?

“Guys, can you please give him some space!” White's voice snaps, cutting through Black's stupor.

The invading hands let go, replaced by his sister's familiar arm around his shoulders, her scent washing over him. Black’s hands are shaking, just a bit, and his heart's beating in his ears a little too loudly. Hitomi’s at his feet, her shoulder pressing against his leg, a comforting, familiar weight. Black realizes uneasily that people staring at him. He can’t see them, but he can feel the eyes on him, boring into him.

Black loathes being the center of attention. He swallows thickly.

“I’m – I’m okay,” he says reassuringly, both to himself and his sister. To be honest, mostly himself. He forces out a smile and gently removes White's arm from around himself.

“Um, hello, everyone? Everyone being…”

“Cheren, Bianca, Professor, your mother, Bianca’s mother, Cheren’s parents,” Hitomi murmurs, and Black nods in acknowledgement, biting his lip.

“Hi,” he repeats awkwardly. “Sorry a-about. Um. Er, carry on.”

No one answers - no one probably even heard him. Black sighs in relief. 

Honestly, he thinks it's a bit cruel he was forced to attend this little get-together, because, well. Aside from his aversion towards parties of any kind, there's still the... _thing._

Black keeps telling himself he's happy for his sister. Really! He is! She’s his sister and he adores the ground she stands on, and he wants White to have everything she wants! He’s also happy for Cheren and Bianca, even if Cheren is kind of a douche. They’re his friends and they're getting the chance to live every kid’s dream. Everyone will look up to them. They’ll have so many friends. They’ll be respected and

and all Black will get is left behind. 

But that’s just the way things are. Just have to get through this and he can retire back to his solitude.

“Well then,” Professor Juniper says then, effectively shutting everyone else up. Black likes her voice. It’s strong. It’s the kind of voice that carries conversations, the kind people want to listen to. “Let's get this party started, shall we? First off - Black.”

Oh no. This conversation is not a thing Black’s very eager to have.

White grabs his hand. Her nails dig into his palm.

“We all admire your strength, Black, and we want you to know we’ve got your back. If you ever need help, all you have to do is say the word.”

It’s like she’s quoting a guidebook on how to deal with disabled children. It would be really sort of amusing if Black didn’t feel like he was about to cry. 

“You get to pick first,” Bianca chirps. 

Wait.

Hold up. 

“Pick what?” Black blurts, whipping around to face White. He can almost feel her grin as she gently guides his hand to touch something smooth, and round - a Poké Ball.

“Your starter, dork,” White says brightly and buries her face into his neck affectionately. “Happy birthday, loser. You’re picking a Pokémon and we're gonna go adventuring.”

“I can't go a-adventuring what're you t-talking about,” Black blurts out, all conversational intelligence, and he doesn't _get it_. People are chuckling and their mom is ruffling his hair and someone he thinks is Cheren’s dad is slapping his back and do they not understand he’s on the verge of a panic attack here. A Pokémon journey? This must be some kind of a sick joke, he would not put that above White, but how did she get everyone in town in on it?

Black’s mom pulls him aside by his shoulders, runs her fingers along his cheek. Black dislikes people touching his face, but their mother’s soft, thin pianist fingers are cool and comforting, and if he really strains, Black can almost remember the way her auburn hair frames her face, dark eyes warm with love. 

“Happy birthday, baby,” she says softly, voice thick and oh God is that a sob, that’s a sob, we have sobbing, ladies and gentlemen. Black has to blink back tears of his own. “I know you weren’t expecting this, but… I trust you and I trust White and I’m sure you’ll do good. You have all of us backing you up. We... _I_ wanted to give you this, Black, because there's so much, so much I haven't been able to give you. And for that I'm sorry. I hope you don't hate me for it.”

That part about blinking back tears? Yeah, not going so well.

"M-mom," he says a bit brokenly, then falls silent. He hopes she hears everything he can't say - and judging from the way her hand tightens on his shoulder, she does.

White has been watching the silent exchange, and gently grabs her brother’s hand and places in it one of the Poké Balls Juniper brought over. It's oddly heavy. He runs a finger over the polished metal.

“There’s three starters,” Juniper says, her voice warm with mirth. “Water, fire and grass, as is customary. Your friends and sister have decided to let you take your pick first.”

Black blinks. 

“But… there’s f-four of us,” he says in a small voice and pulls his hand back worriedly. This whole thing, honestly, it’s just too good to be true. Juniper wouldn’t just… give away a valuable rare Pokémon to a kid who needs a fucking cane and a guide Pokémon to go outside. 

“That's been taken care of,” Juniper assures him. Black hesitates, then reaches up to again brush his fingertips against the cool, smooth surface of the Poké Ball White handed him.

He crouches and reaches out a hand. Hitomi is there in an instant, her cool nose nudging Black’s fingers, assuring him she’s there. 

“H-how about this one, then?” Black asks, his voice choked and chest feeling tight. Hitomi noses at the Poké Ball resting on his palm.

“Approved,” she says, and watches Black press the button, feeling just as nervous as he does.

With a flash of light an Oshawott bursts out from his confinement. Hitomi immediately thinks it must be the goofiest-looking thing she's ever settled her eyes on. The Water-type wobbles on his feet and blinks, confused, black eyes darting from person to person to Hitomi until they settle on Black. The water-type tilts his head and offers a sharp-toothed smile, one that Black doesn't get to witness. 

Oshawott chirps out a greeting.

“Hi,” Black offers. 

The silence that follows is rather awkward. 

“I’m Black.”

Another chirp, followed by more tense silence. This is going swimmingly, Hitomi thinks.

“D-do you mind if I, err, touch you?” the boy then manages, gesturing vaguely at his own face. “Only I can’t, uh, you know. See.”

The Pokémon blinks again and then raises his figurative eyebrows, tilting his head bemusedly.

" _He's blind_ ," Hitomi supplies in Poké speech to spare Black the embarrassment. " _Let him touch you, it's the only way he'll have any idea what you look like._ "

Oshawott does a double-take, then chirrups. Hitomi translates that out loud as _yeah, by all means, touch away_ , and Black reaches out gingerly, barely containing a flinch when his fingers meet the fine fur on the Pokémon’s side. It feels cool and slick under his fingertips, like there’s a wax coating. Black gently runs his fingers up Oshawott’s sides, down the arms to his small paws, brushing against the smooth paw pads and tiny little claws. Moves his fingers to the Pokémon’s belly, pausing to examine the coarse texture of the seashell, then reaches to run his fingertips along the leathery tail. 

Oshawott looks vaguely uncomfortable, but allows the physical examination without squirming. He glances around uneasily and locks eyes with Hitomi.

_“Hitomi, Black’s guide Pokémon,”_ she introduces herself coolly, feeling almost relieved to have someone to converse with in Poké speech. Human language is hard and makes her throat feel itchy.

_“Wow, like, you tell him when he’s about to fall down the stairs and stuff?”_

Hitomi translates that bit, and Black giggles in a very undignified way. “She tries. Do you mind if I pick you up?”

Oshawott answers by climbing up his sleeve and clinging to it with his sharp little nails.

Cheren and Bianca are arguing about the two remaining Pokémon and White is animatedly chatting with professor Juniper and Bianca’s mother - everyone's being conciderate, Black realizes, and letting him bond with his new companion in peace. He stands up, Oshawott carefully cradled in his arms, and makes his way to his sister and the professor. White proceeds to coo at Oshawott, and Juniper puts a firm hand on Black’s shoulder. She’s the only one besides his sister who does that every time - touching him when she’s speaking to him. He likes it, likes how it makes him feel more included, to know they’re talking to him, and not at him. 

“Oshawott is a good Pokémon,” Juniper says. “I’m sure you’ll get along great. Oh, and-“ her hand leaves Black’s shoulder only to grab his and place in it a frighteningly light and expensive-feeling, rectangular piece of equipment. “This is your Pokédex.”

Black takes in a sharp breath. “You’re giving me a Pokédex? Are you sure?”

“This one has been designed to specifically suit your needs. It has a voice command and all the recorded data can be read out loud. Unfortunately this is still the prototype, so it can't, for example, tell you what move a Pokémon is currently using. We're still working on that.”

“It’s okay,” Black assures, smiling gratefully. “Thank you s-so much. I'm, I'm just so grateful you've d-done all of this for me."

Oshawott trills cheerfully and starts chewing on the edges of Black's scarf. The boy carefully pries them away from the Water-type's sharp teeth, but can't hold back a small happy grin. "D-does he have a name?"

Juniper hums thoughtfully. “No, he doesn’t. You can give him one if you so wish.”

“Uh…” Black tilts his head at the Pokémon in his arms. “How would you feel about that?”

Oshawott shrugs.

White giggles, materializing from apparently nowhere to pet Black's new partner's head. Oshawott lets out a slightly confused chirp, and, seeming to deem White's petting adequate, leans into her touch. “You shouldn’t let Black name you. He’s lame, he'll call you something stupid that has to do with water mytology.”

Black tries to look offended, but honestly, he’s feeling a bit too elated to manage that. This whole thing just feels too good to be true. He can’t stop hugging Oshawott closer to his chest, which the water-type doesn’t seem to mind, honestly, and he’s pretty sure he’s grinning like an idiot. 

“Black!” Bianca chirps excitedly and skips to his side. Hitomi glances up at her - she's holding a slightly uneasy-looking Tepig. “Wow, your Oshawott is cute! Not as cute as my Tepig, though. So, how about a battle?”

“Great idea!” White cries while her brother squeaks out a “What, now?” Oshawott perks up at the word ‘battle’ and tries to squirm out of Black’s hold, chirping eagerly and honest-to-god making grabby paws at Bianca's Tepig, Hitomi is amused to note. And, well, there’s really not much Black can do to fend off the pair of girls dragging him along, except mumble an “um, okay then,” and hold his new partner closer to his chest. On the other hand, these are all baby Pokémon and can’t really hurt each other too bad, but then again the last time Black actually _saw_ a Pokémon battle he was six. He really has no idea what he’s supposed to do, and even if he did, he can’t actually see what’s happening on the battlefield, and he anxiously admits this to the Oshawott who’s kind of vibrating in his arms in excitement.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle this!” is the translated answer he gets, and, well, okay then. 

“You kids take this outside,” Black’s mother cuts in. “You’re not having a battle in the living room.”

So out the kids take it. The parents follow their offspring with poorly hidden interest, drinking lemonade and making idle conversation and clearly just as excited about the Pokémon as their children are. 

"They grow up so fast," Bianca's mother sighs, earning a chorus of mumbled agreements.

It’s a relatively beautiful early autumn morning. Nuvema town is basking in cool gray sunlight, the air is crisp but warm enough to be pleasant. Black can taste the dew still hanging in the air, feel the slippery grass underneath his shoes and the bubbling excitement in his chest.

Bianca pulls him along to the back yard, where there’s a field of grass and flowers and a couple of old apple trees. They're in full fruit, Black can tell from the smell. Cheren and White trail after them, Cheren’s newly acquired Snivy still in her Poké Ball. On White’s shoulder, Hitomi tells him, is perched an Emolga, and, well, that answers the question of not enough starter Pokémon for everyone. Black is glad. He's very much aware about his sister's love for electric-types. 

“Okay, Black, stay there,” Bianca instructs him and hops back, the warmth of her leaving his side. “I’m gonna let Bo out now and you just tell me when you’re ready!”

“Bo?”

“I nicknamed him. Isn’t it cute?”

Oshawott snorts and shares an amused glance with Hitomi. 

The Tepig sends their way a glare frightening enough to paralyze, but the water-type shrugs it off with a toothy smirk. Hitomi nods at him approval before returning to Black's side - she could get used to this little guy. He's got spirit.

“Okay, um, I guess go, Oshawott, then?” Black stammers, and is really happy to feel Hitomi’s familiar weight against his leg. If this goes to hell in a handbasket, at least he’ll have the Lillipup to cover his ass. 

Oshawott goes. Bo lets out a squeal when the water-type hits him with a full-body tackle, knocking him to the grassy ground and quickly hopping to the side, dodging the kick the Tepig aims at him in retaliation. He turns towards Black, awaiting instructions, commands, before remembering he’s pretty much on his own. The moment of distraction is enough for Bo, who takes the opening and slams into Oshawott. The water-type cries in surprise, and the sound makes Black flinch.

_What’s going on, this was a stupid idea, is Oshawott okay, what’s happening,_ he can't see- 

“Tepig tackled him, he’s down, not hurt, there’s two feet between them, Tepig’s dazed, needs to recover from the tackle.”

Hitomi’s soft voice breaks through Black’s panicking, and he blinks. “Oh,” is all he manages at first, but then says, in what he hopes is a loud, clear voice; “Oshawott, don’t let him recover, tackle now!”

Oshawott obeys without hesitation and quickly hops back on his feet, gathers his strength and once again goes for a tackle. This time it sends Bo flying, and he hits the ground with an undignified yelp. 

“Oh no!” Bianca cries while Hitomi calmly describes what’s happening, in a low voice only Black can hear. It only takes one more swiftly delivered tackle to knock Bianca’s Tepig out, and Oshawott skips back to his trainer, panting from the exertion but mostly unharmed and grinning. He's squealing loudly, and Black doesn't need Hitomi to translate it to know what he's saying.

“You kicked butt,” Black says and he knows he's smiling with all his teeth and that he looks like an utter dumbass, but he can't find it in himself to care. “Hitomi told me what was happening.”

_“Guess she’s not as useless as she looks, then.”_

_“Careful,”_ Hitomi growls.

Black fumbles to pick Oshawott up, hands trembling and tears threatening to spill. He'd never... he hadn't really expected to ever get to experience a Pokémon battle, at least not after his, well. Condition, you might call it, became apparent, and he'd honestly kind of accepted it by now. And yet. There was Bianca cuddling her dazed Tepig whom Black's own Pokémon had just beaten, in an actual battle, with actual Pokémon. This is indeed a thing that has just happened. 

"Wow, Black!" White whistles and walks to her brother's side. "That was cooool! I'm gonna hug you now." And she proceeds to do just that. Oshawott gives a distressed squeak from where he's sandwiched between the twins. Bianca giggles and pats Black on the cheek gently. "You're gonna be an awesome trainer someday, I can tell!" 

Cheren scoffs and adjusts his glasses. "Beginner's luck," he mumbles, and flinches like a loser when Bianca shoots him a piercing glare. 

"How about you battle him then?" White challenges, adjusts Black's cap and gently shoves him forward. "Come on, hot-shot, let's see how you handle it."

Cheren looks at Black who's biting his lip. He then nods, with confidence he doesn't really feel at all, but, well.

"Fine." The black-haired boy adjusts his glasses and grabs Snivy's Poké Ball. 

Oshawott hops down and proceeds to mow the lawn with Cheren's Pokémon. The battle sets records in being the shortest battle to have ever been battled. 

No, not really. Snivy puts up a good fight and Oshawott only barely manages to slam him into the ground, but Black has to admit that first one would've really shown Cheren. 

The rest of the day is spent like that - battling and messing around and playing, and for once in his life, Black feels invincible.

 

\- - -

 

The air is crisp and tastes of salt, smells like fallen leaves and seaweed. Black can hear the distant roar of the ocean. The wind has died down but it’s getting colder by the minute; it must be a beautiful sunset.

Black and White sit together, on the roof of their house. Their mother hates it when they do that. Says they’re gonna loosen the paneling. And it’s not like Black can really appreciate the view, or that White really cares about it, but they both welcome the fresh air and the privacy.

Kiki (White's Emolga, who, apparently, is just as fiesty as the girl herself) is snuggled on her trainer’s lap, munching on a berry and enjoying the belly rubs White’s giving her. They’ve really bonded. Not that Black and Nix (his Oshawott; the name was honestly just to spite White) don't get along, but they just. Need to get used to each other. 

“So, leaving tomorrow, huh,” Black says. His conversional skills really need some fining.

White chuckles. “Yeah,” she just says, and doesn't make fun of his illiteracy, so Black can tell she has something on her mind. He doesn’t ask, just waits patiently. 

“Are you… are you sure you’re going to be okay, Black?”

Black smiles softly. “Are you worried about me, sister dear?”

“Well duh. How can I not?”

It’s meant to be playful, but it makes Black feel really guilty. White has always been kind of chained to him, and it’s not like she’s ever seemed to mind, but they both know - at least Black thinks she knows - he's been holding her back ever since they were kids. And now, even when he’s been given this opportunity he thought he’d never have, he realizes – he still is. White still feels like she's responsible for him. 

"White..." he starts, but can't find the right words. So he goes for the wrong ones. "I don't think we should travel together."

Black can tell when a silence is a shocked one.

"I mean," he rushes to correct, "You're gonna go places. You might even get to the League, you're really good, you beat me and Cheren and Bianca so many times today, and... I'm just. Well. I mean," he fiddles with his sleeves; White's hand on his shoulder feels heavy, the grip like iron. "It's okay for you, to, um, be selfish for once. I'll be fine."

The silence is only broken by the distant crashing of waves. Black can feel his sister's hand slowly slipping from his shoulder.

"Thank you," she says softly, and it's exactly what Black expected to hear. 

So why does he feel so hurt?


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two, in which there are goodbyes, strange choises of attire, and a man with a Purrloin

They leave in the morning. 

The sky is steel-gray and the weather's cool, wind biting. Bianca's mother cries hard enough for every other person present - her father's not there, White whispers into Black's ear as they're leaving, and Bianca's not too happy about it.

Black and White's mother grabs both her children and hugs them hard. Murmured farewells and stay-safes are exchanged. White doesn't cry; White never cries. Black does, their mother's words from yesterday ringing in his ears - _I wanted to give you this, Black, because there's so much, so much I haven't been able to give you._

"You've given me everything," he murmurs into her ear just before letting go. She says nothing, only strokes his cheek gently, and steps back. Black misses the warmth of her immediately.

With their bags stuffed to the rims with Poké Balls, spare clothes and as much food as they can carry, Black, White, Cheren and Bianca leave Nuvema town. It feels like the end of an era, Black thinks, bittersweet. Not a very good era, nor a particularly happy one, but he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't miss the salty air or the sound of the ocean.

Route 1 is short, familiar and filled to the rim with little Pokémon that are far too curious and tame for their own good. White and Cheren don't waste any time in starting to meticulously sweep the tall grass clear of Patrat and Lillipup, while Bianca and Black stand back and giggle at them. When Nix starts to, as Hitomi informatively tells Black, "look so frustrated he might actually kill something", Black allows him a few battles against the weak wild Pokémon. Nothing too risky or difficult.

It only takes a few hours of him beating up Patrat before Nix grows drowsy and climbs up to fall asleep in Black's arms, dead to the world, and the Good Company Nuvema decides to leave Route 1 and continue on to Accumula. Black deposits his poor tuckered-out Oshawott in his Poké Ball and whips out his cane.

"Hey Black," Bianca says, as they're making their way along the dirt road. She's been watching Hitomi for a while, fascinated by the way she herds Black to the left and pulls him to the right and every once in a while says something in a soft voice, warns him about rocks and tells him when they're about to enter tall grass. 

"Mm?" 

"Does Hitomi battle?" 

The Lillipup raises her head and glances at Bianca curiously. "I've gone through some battle training," she says, and Black stops, frozen mid-step.

"You have?" He sounds as surprised as Bianca looks.

Hitomi huffs. "It is a necessary skill for service Pokémon to have, wouldn't you agree?"

"...well, yeah," Black admits. "You could've told me?"

"It has never come up before."

Black thinks about arguing, but, perhaps luckily, is interrupted by White's impatient bellow of "Come on guys, what's keeping you? It's almost noon! I'm hungry and Kiki's tired!" coming from further ahead.

"And Cheren has had enough of White screaming in his ear," the black-haired boy growls and shoves her. She shoves back.

"I think they should just kiss and get it over with," Bianca whispers as she grabs Black's arm and pulls him along, snickering to herself as he promptly chokes on his spit. 

Black and White have known Cheren and Bianca for years. Bianca, born and raised in Nuvema town, was the first person Black made friends with since The Thing, you know, the one that left him blind and confused and struggling with PTSD at ten years of age and had them moving to Nuvema. Bianca was... honestly, she was probably just what Black (and White) had needed at the time. All awkward small-town girl charms and bright smiles, she just kind of wormed her way in. Treated them like normal human beings instead of an odd family that just moved next door with a blind, depressed kid and his very angry twin.

Cheren, on the other hand - Black smiles as he follows the sound of his and White's banter. Cheren isn't a small town guy. He's not even a medium-sized town guy. He's smart, but even more than that he's ambitious and ruthless, and not in the bad way - it's just the way he is. Not like he means to be cruel. Black has always kind of admired Cheren, a bit grudgingly and very surreptitiously, because White - White can't stand him. It might seem like a playful rivalry, what they have, but sometimes Black thinks his sister might honestly, sincerely hate Cheren's guts. Maybe it's because he's always been kind of squeamish around Black. It's not like Black minds, really; he'd be squeamish around himself! But, well, White's White and her big sister complex isn't going anywhere.

Bianca leads Black after the others, chattering animatedly about the view and how Accumula's just around the corner and how she loves the big marketplace there, the one with the park, next to the Pokécenter. Black's been to Accumula often enough. Never seen it, of course, but Bianca's always made sure to describe every place they go with so much attention to detail Black can almost see it in his mind. She's always considerate about things like that like they're not a big deal, but, to Black, they mean the world. 

There's no stalls on the marketplace today, Bianca tells him, when they get off Route 1 and into town. A lot of people gathered around, but no market. 

"Shame, I wanted some fresh Razz Berries," she muses. 

"They're out of season anyway," Black says. "Too cold."

"Guess you're right. Now, where did those two fuckasses go?"

Black follows her into the Pokécenter, Hitomi in tow. White and Cheren are already there, lounging on the plush couches of the waiting room, engaged in conversation with no other than Professor Juniper, Hitomi informs Black. 

"Hello Black, Bianca," she greets. "How was Route 1?"

"Short," Bianca chirps. "I'm taking Bo to the nurse. Black, aren't you gonna?"

"Oh yeah, um, sure." He digs out Nix's Ball and takes it to the nurse at the counter, with Hitomi guiding his way and glaring threateningly at the few people she catches staring. Juniper watches him. Hitomi's not all that good at reading people's faces, but she can tell her expression something between pity and pride. She sticks around until Black and Bianca are done before bidding them all farewell and wishing them good luck. 

"Okay, guys," Cheren says when they're all gathered around, waiting for their Pokémon to be patched up. Man, the couches are so soft. Black could just never get up from here, ever. "I think this is where we should split up."

Trust Cheren to break the good mood with his bluntness, honestly. 

White hums in approval and Black is careful not to say anything, but Bianca squeals. "What? I thought we were supposed to go adventuring together!" 

"Come on, Bianca," and, surprisingly, it's White who speaks up before Cheren can. "This is smarter. This way we can all go at our own pace."

Black can physically feel the three pairs of eyes turning his way. And he can definitely feel how his cheeks flush with embarrassment. 

"Y-yeah," Black forces himself to say. Tries to smile reassuringly. "I'm, I'm down with that. I have Hitomi, so. I'll be fine. If, if you're, um. Worried. About that." Wow. Just, wow. Way to make it awkward. 

The silence is heavy. Hitomi is curled up in Black's lap, her eyes trained on his human companions. White looks resigned, Bianca is just staring at her hands, folded in her lap. Cheren is trying to appear nonchalant, but ends up just frowning at the wall. The Lillipup feels a sudden surge of protectiveness towards her partner. If this is how eager his friends are to get rid of him, he's better off without them, she decides. 

"Okay then," Bianca breaks the silence. Her voice is soft, but her smile is pretty genuine. "If you think that's for the best, I won't argue."

And that pretty much settles that. The topic is dropped in favor of light-hearted idle chatting (in White and Cheren's case it's more like arguing, but light-hearted nonetheless), but the mood is still tense. Black feels bad about feeling bad. This whole thing is such a huge deal - becoming a trainer, owning his own Pokémon. Actually being able to travel. This is a minor bump in the road, but it still makes him feel slightly dejected. 

The nurse returns about half an hour later with their fully healed companions. Cheren bolts immediately with a rushed farewell (Black chooses to be tactful and ignore Bianca's wistful sigh. Those two are a disaster waiting to happen, he thinks,) and Bianca follows soon after, hugging both Black and his sister thoroughly and a bit tearfully (again, Black ignores this, even though he can feel his own eyes welling up too.)

Black and White stand together in front of the Center. Black has his hand on her shoulder like he usually does when she's leading him, but they're not moving. The silence is tense, unsaid words floating in the air and making it thick.

"So I guess you'll be off then," Black finally forces out because he knows it's what White wants to say but can't. Her fingers brush against his. 

"Black," she says urgently. "Are you sure? Are you, like, one-hundred-percent sure about this?"

She gets a nod and what Black hopes is a reassuring smile. "If it's too much, I can always go home, can't I?" 

White hugs him. Slowly and tight enough to crush him, like White's hugs always do, but this time it feels almost desperate. They stay like that for what feels like minutes, wrapped in each others' arms in front of the Center, and Black would be content just to stand there and hug his sister for the rest of his life, but then she leans back and pats him on the cheek. 

"Call me. Anytime, anywhere, you call me, baby brother. Got it?" Her voice is soft but doesn't crack, which is totally unfair - Black can't even get a word out so he just nods, swallowing back tears. White pats his cheek again, then steps back.

"Be safe, Black," she says. 

"You too," Black croaks out. Hitomi leans against his leg reassuringly. 

White leaves. 

Hitomi gently herds Black to the side, off the walkway. "What do you want to do?" she asks, voice kind but not pitying, and God, Black appreciates that right now. 

"I suppose we could walk around town a bit, before heading out?"

They proceed to do just that. Black lets Nix out of his Ball, and the Oshawott immediately makes himself comfortable on his trainer's shoulders, tiny claws tugging at Black's hair to keep the water-type from slipping off. Black thinks it's adorable. It manages to lift his mood, anyway.

"There is a large crowd of people in the marketplace," Hitomi informs Black when they take the turn back to the main street. "Some sort of gathering. I think someone is holding a speech."

"Shall we check it out?" Black asks Nix, who chirps excitedly and tugs the boy's hair. 

Someone is indeed holding a speech. Black squeezes himself into the crowd, bumping awkwardly into a few people and accidentally smacking someone with his cane. After a moment of hesitation, he lifts Hitomi into his arms so that she can see above the heads of the people in front of them.

She's not sure if she likes what she's seeing.

The speaker is a large, rather odd-looking but undeniably handsome man in his mid-forties, with strange, green hair and even stranger attire. Surrounding him are half a dozen even more weirdly dressed people, standing in a neat line and two of them holding large banners. The whole event seems like some sort of an odd street performance. Hitomi conveys the scenario to her trainer. 

"Citizens of Accumula, my children," the speaker booms. Despite the bizarre attire he's clad in, or maybe because of it, everyone's unwavering attention is on him. He has an odd sort of charisma. "My name is Ghetsis. I am here representing Team Plasma."

The crowd ripples, Black can hear hushed comments about the speaker's wardrobe choices and if this is some sort of a cult. The Ghetsis character pauses for effect, then, unhurriedly, speaks again.

"Today, my children, I would like to talk to you about Pokémon liberation."

This time, nobody laughs. The crowd's silent, maybe in shock or just finally realizing how serious this man is. 

Ghetsis crosses his wrists behind his back and walks. Hitomi suppresses a shiver. His movements are regal, his posture straight as an arrow, and he carries himself with pride, but there's something _off_ about him. "I'm sure that most of you believe we humans and Pokémon are partners that have come to live together because we want and need each other. However..." He turns his piercing eyes to the audience. "Is that really the truth? Have you ever considered that perhaps we humans only assume this is how things are?"

A few people argue in hushed tones, but the commotion dies down as soon as the speaker opens his mouth again. "Think, my children. Pokémon are subjected to the selfish commands of Trainers, they get pushed around under the pretense of being our," he smiles disdainfully, " _partners_ at work. Now, can anyone of you say with confidence that there is no truth to what I am saying?"

The crowd erupts in urgent whispers. Black's squeezing his cane, his face twisted in a frown. Hitomi huffs, and Nix curls closer to his trainer. 

Hitomi watches as Ghetsis silences the people by lifting his arm like he was blessing them. "Now, my children," he says, in a much kinder, almost fatherly tone. "Understand that Pokémon are different from humans. They are living beings that contain unknown potential. They are living beings from whom we humans have a lot to learn." He lowers his hand. "Tell me," he says, "what is our responsibility toward these wonderful beings we call Pokémon?"

Silence. Then, one girl shyly pipes up. "Liberation?"

The man smiles. "That is right, my child. We must liberate the Pokémon. Then, and only then, will humans and Pokémon be truly equals."

The people accompanying him shift to stand around him. The banners flap in the wind. "My children." Ghetsis reaches out towards the crowd. "I end my words here today by imploring you to consider the relationship between people and Pokémon... and the correct way to proceed." With one final smile, he bows. "Team Plasma sincerely appreciates your attention."

Ghetsis' followers chant something in Black thinks might be Latin, and then, again, in Common - "for the good of our cause." The crowd splits to make way as Team Plasma marches off with this charming, strange man leading them, the wind flying their banners. 

The crowd scatters, but Black stays where he is, still gripping his cane. "I have an odd feeling about this," he mutters. Hitomi nods, and Nix chirps something softly in Black's ear.

"Yeah," the boy agrees absent-mindedly. 

Hitomi nudges him with her snout. "Black, someone coming to you on your left."

Black turns and finds himself bumping into someone's chest, the impact nearly knocking his cap off. Hitomi, still cradled in Black's arms, barks in alarm before looking up to glare at the offender.  
It's a young man, about a head taller than Black, with outrageously luscious green hair, a Menger sponge hanging from his pocket and obviously no grasp on the concept of personal space. Hitomi's initial reaction is to growl at him as a warning before remembering she can actually communicate.

"Please take a step back," she snaps at the guy. Black looks flustered and obeys the command that wasn't aimed at him, and Hitomi rolls her eyes - whatever, there is a decent amount of space between this strange man and Black now and that's all she cares about.

"Put me down, Black," she says in a low, calm voice, and her partner rushes to do so, placing her gently on the ground before straightening back up. He's pretty sure his nervousness shows in his face.

"Your Pokémon," the man says. His voice is soft and kind of soothing, but he speaks really fast, Black can barely make out the words. "Just now, it was saying..."

"Uh," Black says intelligently, then gives the stranger a uneasy smile. "Yeah, um, she's a trained guide Pokémon, she can, er, s-speak. Human language." 

"Oh, you're... blind." That's... well, Black can't really argue with that. Still. The reaction is usually a little more tactful. 

"I didn't mean your Lillipup. I was talking about your Oshawott," the man continues.

Okay then. 

"U-um, excuse me?" Black stutters. Nix chirps again, curious, and climbs on top of Black's head to get a better look at this weird, weird man. "I'm p-pretty sure he's just, um, chirping?"

"No," the stranger argues irritably. "He's talking. So you can't hear it either... how sad."

He reaches to pet Nix, then, to Black's utter embarrassment, shifts his hand to touch Black's cheek gently. Wow. Just. This is a new and slightly not wonderful experience.

"My name is N," the man says all conversationally like he's not caressing Black's cheek and wow, Black doesn't think he's been this flustered and confused ever in his life.

"I - um - I'm, I'm Black," he manages to squeak. 

"Hello, Black," N says and, thank the lords above and below, moves his hand away. "Are you a Pokémon trainer?"

"He is," Hitomi answers bitingly when Black takes a little too long to answer. "And you would be?"

N gives her a soft and slightly sad smile. "Why do you force yourself to speak human language when your own is so much more beautiful?"

"That'd be, um, because I can't u-understand it, and I kind of need to understand, w-what she says." Black has found his voice again and it's sounding a little less flustered and little more annoyed. His hands are on his hips and his expression is decidedly irritated, but the whole sassy image is slightly ruined by his nervous stutter. Still. Hitomi smirks proudly.

"You forced her to learn a new language so it'd be convenient for you?" N asks. Gone is the softness of his voice, replaced by enough fury to actually make Black flinch back.

"Umm-"

"No," Hitomi cuts in, glowering at the man. " _She_ learned a new language because _she_ wanted it to be convenient for him. Did you want something?"

Black honestly just loves Hitomi so much. How did he manage everyday life before he had her? Well, he wasn't blind back then, but the point still stands.

N looks at her. Then at Black. "Let me hear your Pokémon's voice again," he says. 

Hitomi huffs. "Oh, you _bet_ you can hear my voice again, because I am _far_ from finishe-"

"Your Oshawott's," N rushes to clarify. "I want to hear your Oshawott's voice. I, er," he seems to be losing his cool. Hitomi has that effect on people she doesn't like. "I'd like to battle." He says the last part carefully, like the words are bringing him physical pain. 

"I... I guess that's fine?" Black manages, then picks Nix gently off his head. "You up for it?"

The water-type squirms enthusiastically.

"Okay then," and he sets the Oshawott down. "Go, Nix."

N is frowning. Hitomi raises an eyebrow at him - he was the one to initiate a battle, why does he look like someone just pissed in his breakfast cereal? He grabs a Poké Ball from his pocket, glances at it somewhat disdainfully, and tosses it into the air.

"Help me out, my friend!"

A sleek Purrloin appears in a flash of light. Black's Pokédex informs him of the species and typing in a metallic voice, which is really cool but also will probably make him look like an idiot in the long run.

Nix smirks and sprints to action, as does the opponent. Purrloin moves fast and manages to land a scratch on Nix's face, but the attack is pathetically weak and doesn't even break the Oshawott's stride. He retaliates quickly and shoots a jet of water at the dark-type, effectively knocking him to the ground. Purrloin hisses and scrambles to get up, but this time Nix manages to get to him first - one well-placed tackle knocks the kitty down again, but this time he doesn't get up. 

"Oh," N says. Then he recalls his Pokémon, but his eyes are fixated on Nix (who has run to Black and is chattering excitedly.) "I never expected to hear Pokémon say such things."

Black turns his head towards where N is standing, confusion written all over his face. Hitomi's eyes are on the man, too. N fiddles with his Menger sponge, appearing deep in thought. Then he turns his gaze back to Black, expression determined.

"You are a _good_ person," he says, and if Black blushes it's totally because this is so weird. "But as long as Pokémon are confined in Poké Balls... they will never become perfect beings. I have to change the world for Pokémon, because they're my friends. One trainer who is a good person doesn't change anything."

He shoves Purrloin's Ball back in his pocket. Black frowns, holding Nix tight to his chest. 

With one last curious glance to the younger boy, N tucks his cap deeper and leaves.

"W-what just happened," Black asks Hitomi after a while of stunned silence. The Lillipup, for once, can't answer.


	3. Chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three, in which the ethics of battling are questioned

“Three feet to your left. No, no, your other left!”

“Um-“

“ _Throw_ it!”

Black throws the Poké Ball.

It misses. By a mile.

“ _Arceus_ \- okay, listen to my voice, listen where I am-“

“ _Don’t fuckin’_ sit _on me!_ ” the wild Lillipup yowls when Hitomi does just that, pins him down and seats herself firmly on top of him. He trashes, trying to shake Hitomi off of him, but she won’t budge. 

“Throw the Ball, Black,” Hitomi barks. “Throw it!”

Black throws another Poké Ball.

It would've flown right over them as well, but Hitomi growls in frustration and swipes at it, effectively bashing the capsule against the wild Lillipup’s head. He yowls in pain and vanishes from underneath Hitomi in a flash of light.

The Ball shakes once, twice. Three times, and then stills. 

“You got it,” Hitomi says, and her voice is calm as if she hadn’t just assaulted a fellow Lillipup while screaming bloody murder at her blind owner.

“I got it?” 

“Here.” She nudges the Poké Ball towards Black’s hand when he bends down to reach for it. His hand wraps around the smooth metal of the capsule, fingers searching for the release button. He presses it.

Lillipup bursts out in a flash of light. He’s still looking rather unhappy about the undignified capture, but doesn’t growl or bark at him - just glares.

“Hi,” Black says, unsure. “Sorry, um, about that.” 

The acknowledgement seems to calm him down at least a little bit. The Pokémon relaxes and his scowl is replaced with a slightly curious expression - an uneasy one, but still. “ _Yeah, you better be._ ”

“ _Watch it,_ ” Hitomi growls at him warningly. The other Lillipup barks back at her, but flattens his ears and tucks his tail between his legs in a sign of submission. He’s bigger than Hitomi, as male Lillipup often tend to be, but he’s lower level and probably knows starting a fight wouldn’t be a very smart decision. At least that Hitomi can appreciate.

“I’m Black, and that’s Hitomi,” Black introduces them awkwardly. “Did you… did you have a name, or?”

Lillipup looks at Black apprehensively, then barks. Hitomi clears her throat. “Black, he's a wild Pokémon,” she reminds him gently, and Black flushes. 

“Oh – oh right, of course. Then, do you mind if I call you Scout?”

“He’ll be fine with that,” Hitomi assures him and sends a glare the other Lillipup’s way. He frowns right back at her. 

The newly expanded party proceeds. Route 2 is a bit trickier with more hills and things for Black to trip into, but they’re managing. It’s getting pretty late – they got caught up in battling the wild trainers lurking in the shadows and attacking when Black was least expecting it. Nix didn’t even break a sweat beating up their underleveled Lillipup and Patrat, but Black really does not want to spend the night outside, and at the pace they’re going, it’s starting to look unavoidable.

“ _So how come you can speak human?_ ” Scout asks Hitomi. “ _That’s gotta be humiliatin’._ ”

“ _Fuck you,_ ” she answers calmly. 

“ _I was kiddin’_ ,” he says and frowns. “ _You need to lighten up, sweetie. But really, why?_ ”

“Black, left.” She steers Black around uneven ground and back to the grassy road. “ _He’s blind, didn’t you notice? I’m a guide Pokémon,_ ” Hitomi then snaps at the other Pokémon. Realization dawns on Scout’s face.

“ _That explains why he missed that throw. I thought it was just bad aim._ ”

The Pokémons' conversation is cut short by a cheerful voice from behind them shouting, “Yoo-hoo! Black!”

Hitomi doesn’t need to turn around. If the voice wasn't enough, the scent she catches is familiar and something that's purely Bianca. The girl is striding toward them, stumbling through the tall grass, with Bo on her heels. The Tepig is looking considerably less scornful than he'd appeared yesterday. Probably couldn't resist Bianca-charms. Hitomi knows first-hand how difficult that is.

“Bianca?” Black says incredulously as Hitomi gently guides him to turn towards the approaching girl, just as she reaches them and wraps her arms around Black’s shoulders. He flinches – Bianca is wonderful but she keeps forgetting to warn him before she does that. It's not that he minds, per say, just. It's pretty sudden.

She clearly doesn’t notice Black's discomfort and proceeds to start chattering his ear off. “I’m so glad I managed to catch up with you, I got so distracted along the way, I was sure everyone had already gone ahead!” 

Black carefully peels himself away from her and flashes her a genuine smile. “Want to walk to Striaton together?”

Bianca squeals and grabs his hand. “Totally! It’s not that far, though.”

“It’s not?” 

“It really isn’t, I can see the lights from here.”

They walk. It’s already dark out, even Black can tell from the cool, crisp moistness of the air and the way the grass underneath his shoes is getting slippery slick from the setting dew. It’s undeniably nicer to walk with someone hanging on his arm (well, more like him hanging on someone’s arm, if he’s being honest) - the constant talking is a bonus, although Black must admit to tuning some of Bianca's endless chatter out. Hitomi is a great guide but she’s so small Black sometimes has a hard time knowing exactly where she is – not to mention she's not the most talkative of Pokémon.

Well, really, if put into perspective, she _is_ , but. 

The half-hour walk to Striaton they spend idly chatting (“Why in the world would you get another Lillipup? I mean, they’re great and Scout’s definitely a major cutie, but I still don’t get it!”) while Hitomi chooses to take the opportunity to stay behind and socialize with her new teammates ( _“No, I mean, it wasn’t that easy, it took a long time to get the sounds just right. Do you even know how many words humans have for mating?”_ ) Black doesn’t mention his odd encounter with the strange man calling himself N, nor does he speak a word about Team Plasma – something about that guy, Ghetsis or whatever, gave him chills, and not the good kind either. 

“Earth to Black?” Bianca gently nudges his side, effectively shaking him out of his thoughts. 

“Uh, yeah,” he splutters, “sorry, um, zoned out.”

The girl giggles. “I said we’re here, silly. Striaton’s just down the hill.”

Black’s never been to Striaton. It’s not a very large city, but it certainly is much bigger than Accumula and Nuvema. He can hear the faint buzz of traffic all the way up the hill, even though it’s late. The air has an odd tang to it – a sort of spiciness that grows more prominent as they get closer. There’s a lot of people still out, groups of drunk teenagers that cat-call them (that’d be because of Bianca) and busy late-night workers bumping into them (and that’s all Black, really.) After Bo nearly gets run over by a truck both teenagers hastily recall their Pokémon; aside from Hitomi, none of them have ever really been around this many people and traffic.

By the time Black and Bianca stumble through doors of Striaton’s Pokécenter, it’s way past midnight. They’re hungry, freezing and bone-tired, and don’t even bother getting separate rooms, because it's not like they've never had sleepovers before and who really cares. After leaving their Poké Balls at the reception for the night nurse to look after, they drag themselves to the double room and just kind of faceplant on their respective beds (Hitomi is kind enough to guide Black to his even though she can barely stand herself), too worn out to talk or even shed their clothes. Bianca is asleep in seconds.

Hitomi curls up next to Black on his bed, tucked neatly underneath his arm. Her comforting warmth lulls him into comfortable, dreamless sleep.

 

\---

 

The next morning Black stirs at the ungodly hour of nine-o-clock to the mouth-watering aroma of fresh coffee. He rolls to his back, effectively crushing the still-sleeping Hitomi, but at least her outraged yelp really wakes him up. 

He’s still profoundly apologizing to his disgruntled guide Pokémon when a soft, familiar hand reaches to pat his shoulder. He covers it with his own absently, gives Bianca a groggy ‘good morning’ and smiles tiredly when she places in his other hand a hot paper cup. That girl is a god-send. Black considers marrying her as he sips the delicious, rich liquid. He then wonders what her father would have to say to that. 

The mere thought sends a shudder through him.

“What are your plans?” Bianca then asks cheerfully, and Black doesn’t answer immediately, listening to the rustling as she rummages through her backpack. 

“Not sure,” he then admits and sips the coffee. God. Yes. “I’m probably, just, um, gonna walk around a bit and then head off?”

"What?” She sounds surprised and more than a little irritated. Black mentally prepares himself for the conversation that he knows is going to happen. “Uh, hello?" she goes on saying. "What about the gym?”

“W-what about it?” 

Bianca stops packing and turns around. “It would be a waste to not challenge the Gym Leaders while you're here, now, wouldn't it?”

“I don’t… I’m not sure if I have it in me, to, um.” Black toys with the cup in his hands. “Challenge them, I guess.”

She sits down next to him on the bed; he feels the dipping of the mattress, the warmth where her arm presses against his. “I get why you’d say that,” she says, and Black really was expecting a shrill ‘why not’ and some lecture about being the very best like no one ever was, so the soft voice, the understanding, is a welcome surprise. “But I think that’s a pretty dumb-fuck reason to not do something you really want to.”

Then she elbows him, and her tone is mirthful as she adds: “If you fail pathetically I promise I won’t laugh at you.”

He gives her a small grin of his own. “That’s a r-relief.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“We’ll see,” he says dismissively. Bianca doesn’t take the hint.

“Black,” she says gently. Just that, nothing else. Then, sighing, she stands. 

“You know,” she says and returns packing her things. “White called me yesterday evening, before I met up with you.”

Thank goodness. Black, relieved about the topic change, says, “she did?”

“Mm-hm. She’d just beaten the Striaton Gym leaders.”

Black feels like Bianca just punched him in the gut. He know this is where he’s supposed to say something like, “wow, that was fast,” or maybe “on her first day? Awesome!” or just “way to go, sister!” but his throat suddenly feels so tight he can’t utter a single word, except, 

“…leader _s_?”

“There are three of them,” Bianca explains, oblivious to his discomfort. “Usually you pick one, but she challenged all three. It was a pretty clean victory from what I hear. White’s really a natural, isn’t she?”

“I…” Black swallows. “I see.”

The silence hangs heavy until Bianca returns to stuffing her stuff into her bag. “Anyway, I think I’m going to check out this Dreamyard place, it’s just outside town. I hear they have some pretty rare Pokémon, that’d be great for filling out the Dex.”

“Okay,” the boy says numbly. “But, um, aren’t you going to, to challenge the gym leaders?” 

Bianca stills, then lets out a slightly forced giggle. “Yeah, sure. Later.”

She hugs him, gives him a goodbye-kiss on the cheek and scurries off, leaving Black feeling like maybe he’s not the only one intimidated by his sister’s success.

\---

 

Black has the good fortune of bumping into Cheren later that day while strolling around town and avoiding the Gym Street (but trying not to be obvious about it.) His bespectacled friend has just beaten Gym Leader Chili and is in an outrageously great mood, and thus, in a rare show of kindness, leads (drags) Black to the doors of Striaton Gym.

“Thanks,” Black mumbles glumly. “You’re a, a great friend.”

Cheren pats his shoulder. “Don’t mention it,” he says cheerfully. How lucky Black is to have such understanding, compassionate friends. He’s just about to turn on his heels and walk away, when Cheren pulls out his trump card and, feigning innocence, says, “did you know White beat all three of the Striaton leaders yesterday?” 

Being an evil little bitch aside, Cheren does have the decency to actually lead Black _through_ the gym which apparently isn’t a gym at all, it’s a restaurant. The smell is a divine mix of spices, and Black gets an odd sort of feeling about the space around him; all the sounds are somehow dull, almost muted, and he silently wonders about that until Cheren mentions the tacky purple velvet curtains covering the walls. Hitomi trails after them, observing the diners curiously, her claws clicking on the hardwood floor. The Striaton Gym-slash-restaurant is rather charming; the waiting staff is well-dressed in black uniforms and the whole place looks rather cozy, if not a bit over-the-top. At least the food smells heavenly.

Hitomi makes note to remind Black that they haven’t eaten since yesterday.

“A new challenger approaches!” comes a cheerful voice and snaps both Black and Hitomi out of their musings. A young man peeks through the kitchen doors, smoothing his crisp uniform. He smells of fresh mint. “Is that right?”

Black is too confused to answer, so Cheren jumps in to save him. “Yes,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Excuse him, he’s easily overwhelmed. Black , this is Cilan, one of the leaders.”

“That indeed I am,” Cilan says, smiling, and greets them with what can’t be described as anything but a curtsy. “Black, is it?”

“Ah, yes,” he says, flustered. “Of, of Nuvema town. I guess I would like to, um, c-challenge you, if that’s, alright?”

“But of course. Please follow me.” 

“Er,” Black says uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, I’m, eh, visually challenged, would you mind…?” He trails off with an awkward gesture of his hands. Hitomi sees Cilan’s eyes widen but his charming smile doesn’t falter.

“Do excuse me!” And he just kind of grabs Black’s hand and starts to carefully lead him away from the dining room like it’s no big deal.

“Good luck, dude,” Cheren calls after them. Black’s really sort of glad he won’t be there to watch Black’s imminent failure, but at the same time he could really use some emotional support that’s not his guide Lillipup.

The gym leader leads (heh) him to a more secluded room that’s away from the buzzing of the restaurant. Black gets the immense feeling of space around him, and Hitomi confirms this, saying it’s an arena. The floor is dark, rough wood, and even here velvety, purple curtains hang heavily off the walls.

“Welcome, challenger, to the Striaton Gym,” Cilan says ceremoniously. 

“There are two other guys with him,” Hitomi mutters to Black, staring at the trio intently. “The other leaders.”

“I’m Chili,” the one on the left pipes up. He’s short, shortest of the three, but his spiked-up red hair makes up for it. He grins widely. “I light things up with Fire-type Pokémon!”

Another, a tall, lean man with an air of solemnity and wavy blue hair bows, and introduces himself: “I’m a Water-type specialist, and my name is Cress. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Cilan smiles. “And, as you know, I’m Cilan. I train Grass-types.”

Hitomi narrows her eyes at the three of them.

“Uh,” Black says. “Nice to, um, meet you all. So, uh… which… one do I…?”

“We’ll be the judges of that,” Chili says impishly, and Black takes a small step back. 

“Don’t terrorize our guest,” Cress scolds him, then turns his attention back to the challenger. “May I inquire what type is your starter Pokémon?”

“Nix?” Black digs out his Poké Ball and lets the Oshawott out. The Pokémon glances around, confused, but then grins eagerly, sensing the tension in the air. “Um, Water.”

Cress nods approvingly. “Excellent choice. Then, I suppose you’ll be battling my dear brother Cilan.”

“Brother?” Black blurts out before he can stop it. All of the leaders chuckle.

“Unfortunately,” Chili mutters and then takes a step back, gesturing wildly at Cress to do the same. “Well, challenger, let’s see what you’ve got!”

Black swallows. Cilan looks at him, fidgets, looks back at his brothers, then back at Black. “I hope I don’t come off as insensitive, but,” he says in a gentle tone, “taking into account your, erm, condition, how would you like to proceed?”

“Just,” Black stutters. “Just, um, go about i-it as you would, n-normally. I, er,”

“I’m his guide Pokémon,” Hitomi cuts him off. “I instruct him when needed.”

“Ah,” Cilan says. “How intriguing. Well, Black, I accept your challenge!” 

He steps forward, and, in a graceful motion, tosses a Poké Ball in the air. A male Lillipup bursts out with a flash of light, lands on the floor with the same elegance his trainer possesses. 

Black whips out his Dex, listens as the mechanical voice tell him the species and level of the opponent, and bites his lip. 

“U-uh, Nix,” he stutters, clears his throat, and then, in a stronger voice, says, “Go on!”

Nix doesn’t need any further encouragement. He’s next to Lillipup in a flash and goes for a tackle, but the Normal-type doesn’t even flinch; he takes it, standing still, and retaliates with a nasty bite attack that leaves Nix yowling with pain.

“Jesus,” Black breathes. “W-what,”

“He used Work Up,” Hitomi mumbles. “It made his attacks stronger. Black, finish it fast.”

“N-Nix, don’t get too close!” the boy calls. “Use Water Gun from afar!”

The Oshawott grits his teeth and shakes himself loose, sporting rather nasty-looking bite marks on his arm, and jumps further away from the opponent. Lillipup goes after him but is fended off with a jet of water, and then another – it’s not doing very much damage, but Nix is successfully staying away from the range of his jaws, dancing around him, avoiding physical contact. 

Lillipup growls menacingly. He’s getting frustrated; Nix is chirping tauntingly at him, baring his tiny sharp teeth in a challenge. That’s the last straw for the Normal-type, and with a furious howl he jumps forward, successfully manages to pin the Oshawott down and sinks his fangs into the soft flesh on his side.

Nix _howls_. He tries to squirm free, fails, then tries to shove Lillipup off with his hind legs, fails again. He’s pinned and whimpering in pain, and his trashing is just making it worse.

“Recall him,” Hitomi hisses. “Recall him _now_!”

Black rushes to do so. Nix disappears in a flash of red light and Lillipup is looking very proud of himself, grins at Hitomi with bloodied teeth.

Black sends out Scout, who wastes no time in jumping in to avenge his comrade. He’s faster than Cilan’s Lillipup and takes him down with ease.

“Rather impressive,” Cilan comments as he recalls his Pokémon. “But we are far from done.”

Scout growls challengingly. 

Cilan sends out what Black’s Pokédex identifies as Pansage, a Grass-type – so Nix is officially out of this match. Black inhales deeply; his hands are shaking, the one gripping his cane is getting slippery with sweat, his knees feel weak. Why do people think Gym matches are fun? This has to be the most distressing moment of his life.

“Scout, bite it!” he somehow manages to croak out, just as Cilan commands his Pansage to use Vine Whip. The grass-type is fast. She easily dodges Scout’s attack and slaps him hard with her vines, knocking him off his feet and sending him sliding on the wooden floor. The Lillipup scrambles up and promptly gets slapped in the face with another Vine Whip, but this time the strength of it doesn’t take him off guard – instead he quickly sinks his teeth in the vine before it retracts. Pansage shrieks, trying to shake herself free but only damages the vine more as she does. 

Hitomi is conveying all of this to Black in a low voice. His eyes widen, and he calls out, “S-Scout, let go of the-!”

He is cut off by the Lillipup’s pained yelp. Pansage has realized what Black himself did, and wrapped the reminder of her vine tightly around Scout, constricting him. He tries to scratch the vine, tries to bite it, but can’t reach – and then, Pansage growls menacingly, and forcefully _slams_ Scout into the floor. 

Then she lifts him up, and _slams_ him down again.

This happens once more, and it’s when Scout’s pained cries are getting subdued Black finally thinks to recall him. 

The arena is filled with silence. Pansage growls, breathing heavily, waiting for the next Pokémon to beat up. Black is frozen. This… this is _horrible_. He doesn’t care one bit that he’s pretty much lost – why would people want to _do this_ for a living?

“Was that your last Pokémon?” Cilan’s surprisingly gentle voice calls and shakes Black away from his thoughts. He’s about to say yes, God yes, that was it, never again, but,

“No,” Hitomi says clearly and steps forward.

“No,” Black says, but for different reasons.

And Hitomi attacks Pansage with such ferocity the Grass-type will never know what hit her. 

Black has no idea how the rest of the battle goes down. He’s gripping his cane, he thinks he might be crying a bit, but it also might be sweat running down his face. All he can do is listen to the furious barking and shrieking and tearing and –

“Well done,” Cilan says softly. “I must say you surprised me.”

Black hears the heavy pitter-pat of small paws and sinks to his knees, reaching out and choking back a sob when he feels the familiar shape of Hitomi’s head nuzzling against his palms. Her neck is wet with something thick and warm. 

“Y-you s-s-st - _idiot_ ,” Black croaks out, running his fingers through her fur almost desperately. “Y-you can’t d- _do_ that!”

“I’m not your Pokémon,” Hitomi says calmly, but her voice is strained. “I don’t have a Poké Ball. I can do whatever I want.”

“T-that’s stupid,” the boy sobs, but is interrupted by a soft tap on his shoulder. Out of habit, he looks up. 

“Give me your hand,” Cilan says gently. Black blinks, then gives the man his hand. On it Cilan places a small, smooth piece of metal. It feels cool against Black’s sweaty palm. 

“Congratulations ,” the Gym Leader says. “Your badge. You’ve earned it.”

Black stares unseeingly at his hand, at the badge, and all he can think of is that it wasn’t worth it. 

The silence that follows is uncomfortable; Black’s still kneeling on the floor, hands covered in Hitomi’s blood that’s drying and turning sticky between his fingers, just holding the badge, not knowing what to say or do. 

“Er,” Cress pipes up, managing to sound suave and awkward at the same time. “Forgive me if this is rude, but you said you’re from Nuvema Town – you don’t happen to know a certain young girl named White, do you?”

“She’s my twin sister,” Black says after a pause, his composure mostly regained. He pockets the badge, grabs his cane and pushes himself off the floor. 

“I thought you looked like her!” Chili cries triumphantly. “Man, that chick was on _fire._ We didn’t stand a chance!”

“She was indeed extraordinarily talented,” Cress agrees. “Be sure to give her our regards.”

“I will,” Black says numbly. “Thank you again.”

The badge feels heavy in his pocket as he stumbles out and tries to remember which way the Pokécenter was.


	4. Chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four, in which psychic Pokémon are gravely underestimated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm sorry for such a long wait. Some of you might've read this fic on the Nuzlocke forums up until chapter 8, but when I took a (rather long - sorry about that) break from writing, I also took a break from editing the older chapters such as this one. 
> 
> To those who have indeed read this (and all the previous) chapter before, I warmly recommend rereading - while nothing big has been changed plot-wise, I've edited the text to be more reader-friendly especially to those who're not necessarily so familiar with the games and their storylines. Along with that, the plot flows better now, as I've had a long time to think about where I'm going with RTC.
> 
> I'll upload the rest of the edited chapters hopefully within the next few weeks, and am working on a new chapter as we speak. Thank you for your support, guys, it means a lot!!!

“Do you want to go find Bianca?”

Black fiddles with Hitomi’s ears absent-mindedly, fingers stroking the silky-fine fur. She rolls her eyes but doesn’t tell him to stop – Black's been quiet and obviously shaken up since they stumbled out of the gym, which is why Hitomi had seen it fit to sit him down on the plush Pokécenter sofa and curl up on his lap, something she rarely does. She’s always found it rather unfit for a service Pokémon to act like a pet, but just looking at Black’s blank, paled face makes her heart lurch in her chest. 

So she's not made of stone! Someone alert the press!

“No," Black says quietly after a moment. 

Hitomi sighs. “How about calling your sister?”

“ _No._ ”

“She’d love to hear-“

“Later,” Black mumbles, and Hitomi quiets.

The Center is buzzing; it’s just after noon and there’s dozens of people bringing in and picking up Pokémon. Their voices mix and mingle and it really hurts Black’s ears. His head is throbbing and his eyes feel sore (not exactly a new sensation), and a few of his fingers are raw and bloodied where he gnawed on his fingernails too much. 

“Sir?” a low voice calls from a few feet away, and Black snaps his head towards it. Hitomi doesn’t move from her spot curled up on his thighs, merely gives Black a calming nudge.

“I have your Pokémon here,” someone who must be the nurse says and leans down, smelling of disinfectant and warmth. Black reaches hesitantly up to curl his palms around the two Poké Balls and gingerly picks them up from the tray, cradling them protectively in his hands. 

“Thank you,” he says with a tentative smile, and then flinches in surprise when he feels the sofa dip. Hitomi perks up but remains silent. 

“You battled one of the Gym Leaders, didn’t you?” The nurse asks kindly but not patronizingly. Black hears the smile in his voice – and immediately feels slightly better, because the man’s soft, purring baritone is like honey to his ears; soothing and gentle. That seems to be like a job requirement for Pokémon nurses. Black relaxes, allows himself to shift closer to the warmth of this person.

“I did,” Black replies. “Won, too.” Despite the triumphant words he can’t keep the dejected tone out of his voice, and, frankly, can't be bothered to care, either. The nurse looks at him, at the Lillipup on his lap, and then gives the boy an understanding smile he doesn’t get to see.

“Your Oshawott and Lillipup weren’t badly injured,” he says like he knows what’s up. Probably does, too. “I would even go as far as saying they seemed rather happy about helping you win.”

Black doesn’t know what to say to that, so he opts to sit in silence and run his thumbs on the smooth surface of the Poké Balls. The nurse sits with him for a little while, unspeaking, and then stands up. Black recoils from the sudden disappearance of his warmth. 

“Safe travels, sir,” the nurse says gently, footsteps indicating his returns to the desk. 

Five minutes later Black gets tired of the noise and lets Hitomi lead him out of the Center.

The weather feels warmer than it usually does in late August, though Black thinks that might be because the wind isn't quite as biting this far inland. It is quite pleasant, he supposes. The rays of sunlight warm his cheeks; the soft breeze ruffles his hair and the spicy scent of the air is more potent than it was the night before – Striaton City might not be all bad. 

“Black,” Hitomi suddenly says, interrupting his pondering. “You remember those weird protestors in Accumula?”

“Yeah, the Pokémon activists. What about them?” 

“They're here as well."

Black hums. "So? They probably travel from town to town."

"I don't like them," Hitomi snarls. The boy nudges her with the toe of his shoe.

"You don't like anyone," he teases. The Lillipup lets out a noise that perfectly conveys just how amused she is, which is not at all. She stays silent for a while, then, "I know you forget this, but I'm a Pokémon. I have instincts you humans can't even understand. When something doesn't sit well with me, you'd do well to listen."

Black frowns at her general direction. 

“You’re imagining things again,” he says dismissively, and then adds, “besides, um, I don’t think they’re bad people. I mean, I think they’re trying to do, er, good things?”

“Separating Pokémon from their trainers?” Hitomi's losing her patience. Sure, she loses her patience very often and very loudly, but this is different; her voice is getting lower instead of louder, and she's edging away from Black's space. Oh no.

“No!” He says quickly, stopping abruptly and kneeling down to her level. “Sorry. I didn't mean that. I meant, just. Stopping Pokémon abuse. I mean. You saw what that was like, uh, b-battling, that is.”

Hitomi sees Black’s fingers twitch towards his pocket, where Nix’s and Scout’s Poké Balls are.

“You wanted to do this,” she gently reminds him, her anger forgotten for now.

“I wanted to challenge the gyms, not… just stand and listen, w-while they get...” he trails off and wraps his arms around himself. “Never mind, sorry. I’m just being stupid.”

Hitomi regards him silently, then sighs. There is really only one thing she can think of that’d cheer Black up. 

“Get your cane,” Hitomi says, “we’re going to go find Bianca. Dreamyard, right?”

With directions from an eager-to-help young lady passing by (who eyes Black like he’s a juicy piece of meat and earns a rather frightening glare from Hitomi) they manage the short walk to Dreamyard with no problems. 

And what a yard it is. Encircled by massive, greying willows that shut out everything outside it, including the sun’s light, the Dreamyard truly lives up to its name – Hitomi can barely believe that this sort of seclusion, this feral little world, can exist in the heart of a city. The only sign of civilization ever setting foot in the place are the ruins of what Hitomi guesses used to be a warehouse of sorts, now reduced to a pile of crumbling walls and rusted pillars, slowly being taken over by the nature, vines climbing where grass and moss can’t reach.

The whole place is absolutely _massive_ , an unkempt mess of weeds, and lush, green shrubberies, an emerald mat of grass and moss covering the ground; all of it unfazed by the August chill that had turned most of the surrounding forests into seas of orange and brown . Hitomi regards the place with apprehension. It has an air of _wrongness_. Like it’s not supposed to be there at all. 

Black’s musings are similar. There is an eerie feel to the place, he thinks, as he tries to find his footing on the soft ground that gives underneath his shoes. Dreamyard is right next to the Gym street, yet no sounds of traffic reach them. The air is still and dewy, and smells of rotten leaves and wet bark; an earthy, pleasant scent, but the way it makes his head feel heavy with drowsiness is disquieting. 

“I feel weird,” he says out loud. The words ring sharp and loud in the humming silence. “Like… floating.”

“Well you’re not,” Hitomi mutters in a low voice. “I don’t see Bianca anywhere,” she adds after a pause. “I actually don’t see anyone anywhere.”

Black hums thoughtfully. “Could you describe it to me?” 

Hitomi does, with detail, from the mossy floors to the branches of the towering willows. The boy is silent for a while, head slightly bowed, seemingly deep in thought. 

“Let’s go to the warehouse,” he then says, and doesn’t really know why. The words feel odd on his tongue, foreign. Hitomi sends him a questioning look but doesn’t argue, and leads him through the jungle that is Dreamyard. 

The building is a carcass. A skeleton waiting to be reduced into dust. There are piles of rubble where the walls _BONES_ have already crumbled, and that should make it hard for Black to navigate, but it’s okay because his legs know where to step, he doesn't even need to move them. The wet, decayed smell is starting to lose its pleasantness, instead making his head feel 

hazy

his thoughts disoriented 

hard to think

Black 

he hasn’t dreamed in a long 

long

time

he sometimes doesn’t know if he 

remembers

_how_

Black Please

  
_whoareyounodontcomeheregoaway_   


its okay 

_noyoulieyoureoneofthem_

_youcametohurtmejustliketheydid_

no 

  
_youdidnt_   


i didnt 

_idontBELIEVEYOU_   


please stop 

youre hurting me 

__

_helpme_

how 

_dontletthemtakeher_

_DontLetThemTakeHer_

_Don t let them take her_

_d o n t l e t t h e m t a- -_

\--- “ _Black!_ Snap out of it!”

He gasps. It burns his throat, his lungs feel like they’re on fire – his head _throbs_ , it hurts so much he thinks he might throw up. Bile burns his throat. Underneath the pain there is something, a crawling feeling, like the thoughts he’s thinking aren’t his own.

A pair of delicate hands touch his face, grab his collar, and the weirdness subsides. The watery voice that calls his name is familiar, feminine, the name is on the tip of his tongue, why can’t he remember it?

“Bianca,” he finally manages to gasp, the name hitting him in the back of the head like a brick. “Bianca? W-what,” and that’s really as far as he can get before going into a coughing fit. 

Black realizes he’s lying on mossy ground, the wetness of it having seeped through his sweater - or maybe it's sweat. It’s cold, it’s uncomfortable, just what is he doing there? 

“You’re awake,” the girl hovering over him sobs. “You’re okay!” 

This vaguely feels like that one time they stole some of Bianca’s dad’s whiskey and got smashed. Or, rather, the morning after that. Except not really, this is so much more unsettling. Why is it so hard to think? There’s something in the back of his head, a nagging thought he can’t quite reach – it’s maddening.

Bianca helps him up. She’s trembling and his legs feel like lead, so it’s not as easy as it sounds, but they manage. Black’s head is spinning. The pain is still making him feel nauseous, but at least he can now tell which way’s up.

“What… was that?” he manages to croak out, swaying on his feet and gripping Bianca’s shoulder for support. She takes in a quivering breath, and then, in a shaky voice, says, “a Pokémon.”

“Huh?”

“She thought you were going to attack her. I tried to tell her no, but she didn’t listen – she’s really shaken up, after what happened! I’m sorry!”

Black blinks. “I have like… no idea, what you’re talking about.” The words roll off his tongue, jumbled and heavy.

The girl sighs, grabs Black’s hand and puts it onto her shoulder. “Come on,” she says. 

Black does. The haziness of his head is subsiding, but that in turn means the headache is getting worse, and he has to grip Bianca’s shoulder tight enough to hurt so he won’t stumble in his steps.

“I came here like three hours ago,” Bianca says as they navigate around the crumbled walls. “It was so weird. She attacked me too, but for some reason it didn’t affect me as much, so I managed to reach her, you know? And it took a while to make her realize I wasn’t bad and wanted to help her – oh Black, she’s in a really bad shape, I’ve been trying to fix her up but it’s just no good! I don’t understand who would want to do something like this!”

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Black says tiredly. 

Bianca frowns. “Just – okay, we’re here! Hitomi, how is she?”

“Hitomi?” Black tilts his head and suddenly realizes that the Lillipup isn’t glued to his leg as usual. He almost panics, but then her voice says, “not good,” and then, “I see you finally decided to wake up, Black.” And despite being utterly relieved about hearing Hitomi’s voice, Black is tired and hurting and really not in the mood for her snarky comments and Bianca’s mindless babbling. 

“Can s-someone explain what the f-fuck is g-going on?” he snaps irritably, earning a surprised glance from both Hitomi and Bianca. He rarely raises his voice (and already feels kind of bad about it), but hey, desperate times and all that.

Just then, something coos weakly from somewhere to his right. He starts, takes a step back. “What was that?”

“Musharna,” Bianca says sheepishly. “Sorry. I got carried away. Black, that’s Musharna – you know what that is?”

“Isn’t it that one Pokémon that fucks up d-dreams?” he says nervously. 

Musharna coos again.

It clicks after about ten seconds. “Ah. Right,” Black says, bemused. “I think I um, I know where this is going.”

“Yeah,” Bianca says. “She attacked you when you got too close, because she’s pretty badly hurt and really scared.”

“You were out of it for a while,” Hitomi adds, nudging Black’s leg apologetically. “I left Bianca to look out after you.”

Black kneels. He reaches out towards where he can hear the Psychic-type’s ragged breathing, touches her short, fine fur – she lets out another soft, pained wheeze, and starts petting Black’s hand with her silky soft trunk, wrapping it around his fingers and squeezing softly. Black gets the feeling she’s apologizing.

“It’s okay, baby,” he says softly. “What happened to you?”

Musharna coos. 

“She told me humans attacked her,” Hitomi says darkly, and her voice breaks into a growl. “But she couldn’t manage to speak after that. She’s in pretty bad shape.”

“Humans?” Black whispers as he gently strokes Musharna’s trunk with his thumb. His fingers come away covered in something warm and wet. Shit, if he starts crying now there’ll be no end to it. “Who’d do something like that?” 

Hitomi grunts. “Bad people.”

Musharna tugs at Black’s hand, and he leans closer. 

_DontLetThemTakeHer_

And promptly jumps up in shock. 

The dreamed conversation comes flooding back, hits him like a freight train. Black gasps and covers his mouth with a trembling hand, tears that are not his own leaving hot tracks on his cheeks. 

“Black?” Hitomi’s bark sounds panicked and Bianca is gripping his shoulders so tightly it hurts. 

“They took my baby,” he says with a voice that's not his own, his tongue twisting unwillingly to form the words. “They attacked me and beat me up and took my baby.” Musharna whines miserably at his feet, touches his ankle with her trunk. 

“What? Who? What are you talking about?” Bianca sounds like she’s on the verge of panic herself. Black takes in a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself down, but he can _feel_ Musharna’s distress like it’s his own, her not-quite-voice chanting in his head – _GetHerBackGetHerBackGETHERBACK_ – her thoughts, so unlike a human’s, painful when forced into the mind of one.

“Stop,” Black sobs, cradling his head in his hands, “I understand, I’ll help her, just, please, s-stop it!” 

Musharna's presence in his head recoils and pulls out, tears through his mind and rips itself out. 

“Black! Talk to me, you fuckhead, what the hell is going on?!” Bianca’s voice sounds borderline hysterical, she’s holding the boy tightly with shaky hands, clinging on his sweatshirt desperately.

“They – the p-people wh-who did this – they, they took her child, s-s-stole her,” he manages to stutter, clinging right back to hold himself upright. His head feels… _violated_. “They, they wanted s-something, I don’t know w-what. T-they needed a Munna.” 

“Who were they?” Hitomi says calmly, gently. “Black, listen to me, do you know who they were?”

_ForTheGreaterGood;GreaterGoodGreaterGoodGreaterGood_

And then, a word, pounding at the inside of his skull;

liberate

Black swallows. He takes a deep breath and straightens up, gently prying Bianca off. “I think,” he says, voice trembling, “I think it was those people from Accumula.”

A heavy silence hangs in the air.

“Saying ‘I told you so’ would probably be very inappropriate,” Hitomi then says somewhat smugly.

“Yes it would,” Black snaps back, and reaches to run his fingers through his hair, nearly knocking off his cap in the process. “W-what do we do now?”

Bianca recovers from her shock, wipes the tears from the corners of her eyes and sends Black a glare so fierce he can almost feel the heat of it.

“What are you, stupid?” she snaps. “You go find her baby.” Her voice leaves no room for arguments. 

“O-okay,” Black sheepishly agrees. Then frowns. “Wait, um, why me?”

“First of all I have no idea what or who the fuck you're talking about, so there's that,” Bianca says sternly. “And also we can’t just leave Musharna here! I need to take her to the Pokécenter, someone needs to look after her.”

Both are undeniably rather good arguments, so Black has no other options than to admit defeat. “F-fine.”

Bianca helps him clean up the dirt and moss that’s clung to his sweater. Then she digs a bottle of water from her bottomless backpack and force-feeds it to him along with two painkillers for his headache (leaving Black once again contemplating marrying her.) Then she hugs him tightly, whispers a ‘be careful’ in his ear, forcefully shoves him away and tells them to get the fuck out already. 

They waste no time. 

Leaving Dreamyard is like stepping into a different world yet again. The sounds of the city feel utterly welcome, even though the contrast between it and the pressing silence of the forest is disconcerting. Black relishes the dry lightness of the air, the faint breeze; the spicy scent of it.

“Where do we start?” Hitomi asks, and Black can barely hear her over the sound of traffic.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But, um, if they were the ones we saw earlier, then, er, can we just a-ask around? They're not all that inconspicuous, are they? S-someone must've seen where they went."

“Out of town, probably,” the Lillipup mumbles as she guides him through the afternoon rush hour of Striaton. “So that’s it, then? We follow them?”

“Yeah,” Black says, but doesn’t feel too confident.


	5. Chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are misunderstandings and stressful yet heroic events

“This blob is useless and also we're in trouble. They told us to bring a Musharna - this thing isn't strong enough,” the woman hisses. The heavy hood of her robe is down, revealing her round, scowling face and unruly black curls. She looms over the small, pink Pokémon, staring at it in disgust as it tries to scramble away from her, whimpering in fear. 

“We would have succeeded if you hadn’t lost your temper like that,” her partner says, voice dripping contempt. “The Musharna was too badly wounded to capture. Your actions were shameful, sister. You went against the cause we fight for.” 

The woman sighs irritably at her partner and gives the Munna a withering glare for good measure. The Psychic-type lets out a whine and huddles closer to the wet cave wall, curling up around itself. 

"It's for the good of our cause," the woman hisses at it. "You're needed, Pokémon. Don't fight us."

Her partner sits on a boulder and watches the display disdainfully, his posture impeccably straight and dark features hidden by his hood. He frowns. “Don't antagonize it. His Holiness wouldn’t stand for your unneeded violence.”

“He’d be _royally_ pissed. Heh, get it?”

“You _disgust_ me.”

The woman ignores his disapproving tone in favor of stripping herself of her hooded cloak. Damn things are uncomfortable as hell, and who knows how long they’re going to have to wait in this godforsaken hole. 

Wellspring Cave, an underground waterway opening, is cold, wet, and dark, and if she’s going to play babysitter to a useless little Pokémon and a man with a stick the size of a tree trunk up his ass, then she’s at least going to be comfortable doing it.

But, of course, “We need to be in uniform,” her partner notes icily.

“Calm your tits, _brother_ ,” she snaps back. “I’m just taking it off, not torching it.”

He’s about to retort, but, perhaps luckily, is interrupted by a soft screeching sound, and then another, followed by the sound of wings flapping. 

The cave is not the most well-lit of places, but there is enough light for the Plasma members to see the Woobat. There are at least a dozen of them, hanging off the walls near them, on the rocky ceiling, near where Munna is curled up. They’re not making a sound, not moving - just hanging there. 

“That’s really creepy,” the woman mutters and reaches for the Poké Ball on her waist, but the man waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. 

“It’s just Woobat,” he says in a neutral tone. “They huddle next to it because they’re all Psychic-types. Just ignore them.”

“They’re staring at us.”

“They don’t have eyes.”

“…Touché.” She puts back the Ball and edges away from the flock of Pokémon. “How long are we going to be here anyway?”

“We rendezvous with His Eminence Gorm in an hour.”

“So too long then,” she mutters. “This sucks.”

“These are our orders. You’re just going to have to suck it up.”

"You suck.”

“If you’re going to be a brat, then please do so somewhere I don’t have to tolerate you,” he hisses, tone of voice clearly signaling the end of this conversation. His partner shrugs, glancing towards where Munna is huddled. More and more Woobat have gathered on the wall around it, and it’s stopped its infuriating whining and fussing. A relief, the woman guesses, but she can’t shake off the feeling that those damn Woobat are staring right at her. 

She bends down to pick up a small piece of rock, and hurls it at the wall. 

The air fills with the flapping of leathery wings and high-pitched screeching as the startled Pokémon flee, out of the cave and into the sunlight.

 

***

Hitomi regards the knocked-out pair of Purrloin silently, her expression a mix of battle-pride and contempt. Annoying little creatures, Purrloin. The pair of these weren't even a challenge for her and Nix, but they still tried their very best to claw her eyes out while they were at it. 

Nix chirrups victoriously and scuttles back to Black, who, Hitomi notes, is looking slightly pale, the hand gripping his cane white-knuckled, but relatively he seems to be coping much better than he had after their last battle - the one against Cilan. Maybe being a trainer isn’t a pipe dream after all. 

"Aw, you meanie," one of the twin girls whines, pouting, as she and her sister recall their poor, beaten Purrloin into their Poké Balls. Hitomi sneers.

They're in front of a Day Care center, and, really, Black should've known better than to ask a pair of battle-eager kindergarteners for directions. If there's one thing Hitomi knows, it's that in this world nothing is accomplished, ever, unless there is a quote-unquote 'friendly battle' involved. It's infuriating. Sometimes humans just--- well. Humans. Ugh. 

"How did you teach your Lillipup to speak?" one of the little girls asks eagerly and kneels down, petting her in a way that involves far too much fur-pulling and ear-tugging. To her credit, she doesn’t even snap at her. 

The other pipes up, "does your Oshawott know Hydro Pump?"

"W-well, no, he only learns that much later-"

Hitomi coughs loudly. 

“R-right,” the boy stutters and clears his throat. “So um, I won, n-now can you answer the… the question?”

Hitomi squirms away from the reach of the little girl’s sticky fingers. More and more kindergarteners have gathered around them to catch a glimpse of the now finished battle; they’re peeking at them from between the boards of the picket fence, some sitting on the Day Care center’s stone steps – they regard Nix and Hitomi in awe, wide-eyed and rosy-cheeked. The looks aimed at Black are more along the lines of pure unabashed admiration. Hitomi cracks a slight smile.

“What question?” one of the twins asks, tilting her head. “Why do you talk so weird?” 

“He asked you if you’ve seen people go by who have a Munna,” Hitomi quickly says, taking in her partner’s stunned and somewhat panicky expression. All of the kids’ eyes snap to her.

One of the perks of being a talking Pokémon is that everyone listens when you have something to say. “You even know what Munna is?” she continues. The blank stares she receives are a good enough answer.

In the end one of the kindergarten teachers comes along to herd the kids back inside, and, when asked, she tells Black that no, she hasn't seen a Munna, specifically, but she did see some rather oddly-dressed people pass by earlier that day.

“They were heading towards the Nacrene crossroad,” she helpfully informs them. “They some kind of cultists?” 

“Um, don't think so?" Black offers.

He's not sure, actually. 

The Nacrene crossroad is just that – a crossroad that splits the route into forest trails, a path to the underground waterway opening, dubbed Wellspring Cave, and a dirt road to the next city. There just has to be a crossroad somewhere, doesn’t there? It would all be too easy otherwise.

A wave of tiredness and frustration washes over Black. 

After leaving Dreamyard, it hadn't taken too long to find someone who knew where to find Team Plasma, as the protestors slash freaky cultists called themselves - or, rather, where they would've found them three hours before. The leader Ghetsis had given a speech similar to the one they'd been listening to at Accumula in Striaton City Gardens, but by the time Black and Hitomi had gotten there, there had been no sign of the group. A passerby had guided them to the direction of Route 3, but here they were - no closer to actually finding Munna. 

“I guess that’s as far as we go,” Black says resignedly, and honestly, he's not feeling up to going around aimlessly looking for people who might have possibly captured a baby Pokémon. It's not that he doesn't care! Honestly! It's just that he’s not even certain these people are the villains here. The Ghetsis guy – he hadn’t sounded like a person who’d let his subordinates run around beating up Pokémon. It’s much more plausible that it was just some rather nasty trainer who just happened to want a Munna really bad. Sad, but happens all the time; and there’s no way Black could track them down now, without any clues to go on.

getherbackgetherbackgetherback

Black’s head spins. He takes a shaky step back and crouches, sits on the grassy roadside, leaning his forehead against his knees.

The rustling of grass tells him that Hitomi’s seated herself beside him, and Nix paws gently at his cheek, chirrups softly in his ear; a concerned sound, and Black realizes his hands are shaking, he’s breathing erratically. The sharp pain of loss not his own runs through him, making his blood go cold.

“Black?” Hitomi calls, voice carefully neutral.

“I r-really don’t k-know what to do,” he says between desperate gulps of air. Musharna’s voice pounds in his head. Get her back. My baby. Get her BACK. “I-I have n-no idea.”

“Call White.”

“What?”

“Call your sister,” Hitomi repeats calmly.

The silence stretches, broken only by Black's erratic breathing. 

Black digs his Crosstransreceiver from his pocket and speed dials White with trembling fingers.

She picks up after four rings, greets him breathlessly. 

_”Hey, baby bro! Listen, I’m in the middle of something here, is this important?”_ her voice flows through the receiver; Black hears something crash in the background, and White groaning and yelling something.

“W-where are you?” he asks, alarmed.

_”Nacrane gym,”_ comes the gleeful answer. _”And, um, Thane may or may not have just knocked over a smallish bookshelf, so I really gotta go soon.”_

Black smiles shakily in spite of himself. “Yeah, okay, um, just, j-just. I m-m-miss you.”

There is a short pause, and then White says, _”hold on.”_ He hears footsteps, and what sounds like a door opening and closing. 

_”Black,”_ his sister then says, her voice unusually gentle. _”Are you okay?”_

He manages a shaky chuckle. “Yeah. I – I think. I’m. I’m fine. You s-should go.”

_”I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong,”_ she declares. _“You’re not… having one of your… thingys, are you?”_

“It’s not a p-panic attack,” he reassures her. “Just. Panicking.”

There is a moment of silence. _”Black,”_ White then says, a soft murmur just barely audible over the receiver, _”you’re fine. Listen to me. You’re fine, you’re okay. You’re doing great, baby brother. You can do anything, you hear me? And I know you’ll do great.”_

Black cracks a smile. White hasn’t done this in a long time, and it feels nostalgic in a slightly bittersweet way. Back after the accident, when they were kids - years ago, she always did this, at nights when she’d hear him crying - climb into his bed and hold him, whisper into his ear, kiss his eyelids; a child’s way of comforting someone who hurt. It helped more than any form of therapy ever did. The panic attacks stopped, after a while.

“White, s-seriously, I’m okay,” he says, and means it. “I just, needed t-to hear your v-voice.”

The line is silent, and then he hears White chuckle softly. _”Dork,”_ she says, not without affection. _”Fuck, I’m really gonna have to go, I think that’s the smoke alarm.”_

“Jesus, go on a-already,” Black giggles. “Godspeed, sis.”

_”Heh, thanks. I’m gonna call you right after I finish this, ya hear me?”_

“Y-yeah. Bye.”

White hangs up with a rushed ‘talk to you later’. Black pockets his Crosstransreceiver, feeling more than slightly better. Wow. He hadn’t even realized how weird it’s felt, being apart from someone he’s been with for his whole life, all day, every day - Black suddenly feels really childish for being jealous of his sister, guilt burning in his chest. He’s been sulking about her success when he should’ve been glad for her.

But it’s not really just that, is it - jealousy this stinging? It’s much more deep-rooted than that: it’s festered inside him for years and years without ever being addressed or cleaned up. Yes, Black loves White, and the sun is warm and water wet, but he’s also painfully, blindingly jealous of how her. The prodigal daughter. 

Nix decides to sink his teeth in Black’s earlobe.

Even though Black howls and shoves his Oshawott off his shoulder, he’s grateful for the distraction. 

“Feel better?” Hitomi asks, leans against his thigh. Black nods, takes a deep breath. 

“I still don’t k-know what we should do, though. How are we ever g-going to find Munna w-when we don't even know who t-took her? How far c-could’ve they gotten? And which way?”

Just then, right on cue, the air around them shifts. Black whips his head up, and a breeze hits his face – but not wind, it’s erratic and directionless, and he hears the rustling of not leaves, but wings. 

“What-“

“Woobat,” Hitomi supplies. “Flocking over us.”

Black hums. “I thought those were n-nocturnal?” 

“They are,” she says thoughtfully. 

“Woobat live in caves, right?” Black then inquires after a pause.

The flopping of wings grows distant. 

“Yes.”

“Isn't the underground waterway opening down the road?” Black scrambles up, his legs stiff from sitting, and brushes grass off his clothes. Nix sinks his claws into the fabric of his backpack and hitches a ride up to claim his place on Black’s shoulder.

“Check it out?” Hitomi asks. 

Black nods. “Lead the way.”

She herds him back to the path, and when she walks, Black can feel a slight stumble in her step, an inconsistency in her stride that’s never there. Like she’s dragging her feet.

“You okay?” Black asks, concerned. He feels the swish of her tail against his calf, an affectionate gesture.

“’M tired,” she says, voice strained. “But it’s okay. I’ll be fine, let’s go.”

He knows better than to argue, and instead lets her lead him on towards Wellspring Cave.

The deeper into the forest they venture, the colder it gets. Black can tell from the tangy smell of resin and the sharp rustle of the trees that it’s a pine tree forest, the treetops reaching out so high and so thick sunlight doesn’t filter through, explaining the temperature drop. Compared to the eerie stuffiness of the Dreamyard that still lingers on Black's skin, though, the coolness feels pleasant and welcoming.

Nix nods off on his shoulder, round face nuzzled against his neck and tiny clawed paws clinging to his sweater. The warm huff of the Oshawott’s breath feels as comforting as Hitomi’s weight against his leg, and Black feels a sudden wave of fondness at his Pokémon. 

“There’s the cave opening.” Hitomi stumbles to a stop, leaning her whole weight against Black’s leg and tries to catch her breath.

“And you definitely a-aren’t okay,” Black counters, frowning in her general direction. “What’s wrong?”

“Feel sick,” she says dismissively. “I can handle it. Moreover, can you hear anything?”

Black sighs, but obediently stops and strains his ears. They’ve established long ago that his hearing is far superior to hers, a rather impressive feat given she’s a Pokémon who, of all her senses, most relies on her ears, along with her nose. 

“N-no,” he admits after a while. “Either there’s n-no one there, or they’re being quiet.”

Without further commentary Hitomi tugs him along. Black thinks he can sense the bulk of the cliff – which is more like a mountain, really – as they approach it, and he can definitely feel the odd direction of the wind as it forcefully hits his face, a sharp breeze blowing from the opening in the mountainside. A crack in the steep, stony cliff, quite a climb away, he guesses, and Hitomi confirms this. 

The Underground waterway, or Wellspring Cave, is supposedly a beautiful place. Hard to reach, and rather dangerous especially in spring when it’s prone to flooding, but certainly worth it, Black’s heard people saying. The water of the pools is so rich with minerals it’s gained a unique and quite spectacularly beautiful turquoise color.

Black tries to imagine the sight as he gingerly climbs the rocky wall. He can’t. 

After ten minutes and with surprisingly little trouble he pulls himself up on the ledge. The wind blowing from the cave’s opening howls as it escapes its stony confinement, the sound inauspicious and very uninviting. 

Nix growls softly in Black’s ear. It resonates loudly enough to make the boy wince in surprise and the Oshawott nearly fall off his shoulder. 

“Sorry,” Black apologizes and reaches up to steady the Water-type. “What is it?”

Nix responds by growling a little louder and sinking his claws into the fabric of his trainer’s hood. Black can feel him tensing up, like he’s ready to pounce.

“Hitomi?” the boy whispers. This whole situation is making him anxious enough without Nix going berserk.

“It just smells weird,” she answers softly, but can’t keep the strain out of her voice. “Like rotten eggs and blood. But not blood-blood. I think it’s okay.”

That is not the most helpful nor encouraging thing she has ever said, but Black, after taking a deep breath, nevertheless whips out his cane and feels his way in through the cave opening. 

The smell that hits him is an assault on senses. A pungent, eye-watering mix of sulfur and metal that leaves Black almost gagging and deeply regretting his life decisions right about now. 

“I’m going to faint,” Hitomi says informatively, but keeps leading him onward (rather steady in her steps, even.) Black lets out a breathy laugh. 

“See anything?” 

“It’s a little dark.” I can’t see my own nose, is what she means. Lillipup aren’t known from their good night vision, after all. Luckily they don’t have to go far. 

Nix is the one who notices them. He lets out a snarl and leaps off of Black’s shoulder, startling both his trainer and the other people deeper inside the cavern. 

A moment of chaos ensues, consisting of confused yelling and agitated yowling. It comes to a halt when Black quickly recalls Nix in his Poké Ball, and, rather suddenly, an awkward, stunned silence falls. 

“Um,” Black says. 

“Two of them,” Hitomi mumbles so that only he can hear it. "Definitely Plasma."

“Who-“ a male voice starts, but is drowned out by a female one saying, “what the fuck?”

“I’m. I’m s-s-sorry, um, I’m...” _get a fucking grip,_ “I’m looking f-for… Team P-Plasma?”

There’s a pause followed by footsteps, and then Black feels the huff of someone’s breath on his face. He takes a startled step back. 

“Why? What do you want?” the person inquires. It’s the woman; her voice is sharp and snarly and not at all friendly. She’s leans forward, into Black’s space, and that’s when Hitomi makes her presence known by letting out a fierce, guttural snarl. It’s a feral, menacing sound that Black has never heard her produce - a reminder, equally unnerving as it is comforting, that she is, in fact, a Pokémon, able and willing to bare her teeth and fight. The woman hesitates. Black can feel the air shift as she leans back.

“Sister,” the male voice says coolly. “Leave the boy alone. Can’t you see you’re intimidating him?”

The woman steps back, grumbling, and Black lets out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. 

“Can we help you?” the man then asks. He’s standing farther away, so that Black can hear the echo of his voice bouncing back from the cave walls. His tone is much more collected and civil, but holds a kind of severity that makes Black even more nervous.

“I’m – I’m sorry, if I’m b-being rude h-here, but, um,” he fiddles with his cane. “I’m looking for a P-Pokémon. Uh, a Munna, and, er, I don’t want t-to imply anything, but, um, I kind of, was told, I might f-find her, with you. W-with you, I mean. S-she was, kind of… t-taken. From her m-mother.”

The silence hangs heavy, until the man says, “you’re suggesting we stole a Pokémon.” It’s not a question.

“I – um – d-did you? I mean. I just. I just want t-to find her, that’s – that’s all.”

The woman growls. “Told you someone’d follow us,” she spits at the man, “I told you.”

“ _Silence,_ ” the man snaps back icily. “You are the primary reason for this mess. Don't make it worse on yourself.” 

She bristles.

There is a sound of clothes rustling and then footsteps. Black winces as they come to a halt in front of him.

“You came to get Munna back,” the man says, in that frighteningly frigid voice of his. Black manages a small nod. He’s gripping his cane, white-knuckled and tense, ready to swing if necessary. 

The man hums. “I’m afraid that is not possible. I do regret how… unpleasant things got with Musharna,” he sighs, “but it is for the good of our cause. I can promise you Munna is going to be fine.”

“Y-your cause?” Black manages to breathe, anger seeping into his voice and giving him strength. “I t-thought your c-cause was to make things b-better for Pokémon, not l-l-leave them for dead and s-steal their young.”

“Indeed,” a fourth voice bellows from behind them.

Black whirls around and Hitomi lets out a startled snarl, while the Plasma followers cry out, “your Eminence!”

Black blinks in confusion – Eminence? Just what the hell has he gotten himself into?

“I am deeply sorry for the inconvenience my subjects have caused,” the new voice rumbles as its owner approaches, clothes (robes) rustling. He has the air of a person who is incredibly old and incredibly wise; the scent of incense and old parchment momentarily overthrows the putrid stench of sulfur as he brushes past Black.

“Your Eminence, we-“ 

There is a swish of clothing – the old man raising his hand – and the woman quiets. 

“Is – is this what T-Team Plasma does?” Black then asks, sounding braver than he feels, his body shaking with both frustration and frightened confusion. “B-beat up Pokémon for t-the greater good?”

“It is indeed not,” the old man sighs. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Gorm, Archbishop of Team Plasma.”

Wow. Okay. This is definitely crossing over the border of ‘um, what’ and into the territory of ‘everyone aboard the nope train’.

It takes Black a second too long to realize Gorm has reached out his hand for him to shake – or kiss, Black doesn’t even know. Hitomi snaps at the hand and Gorm lets out a breath of surprise as he quickly jerks it back. 

“Oh, do forgive my thoughtlessness,” he says, bemused, but sincere. Calculating, if anything. “I should have realized instantly from the cane and your Lillipup. A guide Pokémon, is she not?”

“I – um –“

“He’s blind?” the woman dumbly pipes up.

“Tact is a virtue, my child, and you do not possess it,” Gorm tells her, and Black can’t say he isn’t impressed with how he can sound calm and pissed at the same time. The Archbishop turns his attention back to the boy.

“This whole ordeal has been a regrettable disaster, and I am deeply shamed. I can assure you, young man, that Team Plasma’s intentions towards Pokémon are anything but malicious. A Musharna was needed for our campaign, but I never realized my subjects would do so poorly in acquiring one in a peaceful and humane manner.”

His words holds a distinctive, mesmerizing kind of charisma – to be honest, Black is immediately reminded of a certain man holding a speech in Accumula town market. The boy tries to think of something to say, but in the end can only manage to nod in response.

“The poor Pokémon will, of course, be returned to you immediately, if you'd like. I can only hope you will be able to overlook this… slip-up.”

“ _Slip-up?!_ ” Hitomi cries angrily. Black hushes her – as long as they get Munna back, everything’s cool, right? He wouldn’t want to make an enemy of an Archbishop of any kind, thank you very much. 

"Y-yeah, you, um. G-give her back, p-please."

“Sister,” Gorm addresses his subordinate strictly. “Return the Pokémon this instant.”

Hitomi bristles as she watches the robe-clad woman grit her teeth and go retrieve the terrified Psychic-type from her place curled up next to the wall. Munna struggles in the woman’s hold, whining and reeking of fear, but Hitomi can’t see or smell blood on her, only a few scratches and spots where her fur’s messed up. 

The Lillipup nudges Black’s leg to let him know when to reach out. The woman grudgingly places Munna in his hands, and he shudders at the sudden contact of smooth, warm fur against his fingertips. Munna squirms a bit, but calms down when Black cradles her ever-so-gently against his chest, murmuring soft reassurances of _it’s okay, it’s gonna be fine._

“You are talented at handling Pokémon,” Gorm notes, and Black flinches in surprise, having forgotten that he was indeed not alone and still in a rather intimidating situation. 

“Uh… t-thank you.”

“We could use someone like you in our ranks.”

Hitomi pipes up before Black’s even managed to open his mouth. “No,” she simply growls, tugging Black along. “We’re leaving.”

"Uh. Thank you, for, um, b-being so good about this," Black says as they're going. He's kind of shaken and everything is really weird and also kind of suspicious, but Gorm seems like he actually is apologetic about it. Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, like he'd said. 

“Do consider joining us, dear boy,” the Archbishop calls after them. "For the good of our cause." The words echo through the cavern. Gorm’s eyes follow Black until he disappears into the light. It isn’t until a few minutes (a few painfully silent, still minutes) later when he slowly turns to face his two subordinates. 

The woman bows her head in shame - or fright; Gorm doesn’t know which and he cannot say he cares. 

“Your Eminence,” the woman says, voice wavering. He doesn’t let her finish but grabs her by the lapels of her uniform shirt and tugs her closer.

“The order was simple, child,” Gorm hisses, the previous gentle charisma of his voice replaced with ice, “capture a Musharna and don't draw attention. A ten-year old could do that, but you couldn't. You will be punished.”

She cowers. _Pitiful,_ Gorm thinks, sneering. 

“Make yourself useful and get the word out,” he spits and shoves her away. “The next person to disobey His Holiness’ direct orders will answer to His Eminence, lord Ghetsis.”

“Yes, y-your grace.”

“Go. Straight to Nacrene.” Gorm turns with a swish of his robes, gracefully glides to the cave’s opening. “The others will brief you there. We're starting soon.”

He halts at the ledge, gazes at the steel gray mass of clouds spreading over the forest. 

“And keep an eye out for that boy.”


	6. Intermission: Jaspers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intermission; in which a Munna is throughoutly snuggled, and the pickiness of Purrloin further explored

”I’m so proud of you,” Bianca announces as she cradles Munna gently in her arms, tracing the Pokémon’s floral markings gently with her fingertips. Munna coos sleepily and nuzzles closer to her chest.

Black smiles. “Thanks.”

Bianca had met up with him in the Route 3 Day Care after he’d given her a call. Munna had taken an instant liking to her, although Black suspects it might have something to do with the fact that Musharna’s scent is probably all over Bianca. 

“She going to be okay?” Black asks as he sits down on the swing next to hers. The girl smiles fondly down at the Psychic-type. The Day Care nurses were kind enough to give them some water and bandages, and Bianca had pulled out a few berries and potions from her bottomless bag. With some tender loving care, Munna now appears a new Pokémon, fine fur sleeked and shining, eyes bright, cuddling against Bianca’s soft curves. 

“She seems fine,” Bianca says brightly. “Musharna is getting there, too. I was with her in the Pokécenter until you called, she was just waking up when I left.”

Black smiles. “T-that’s good.”

He’d explained what happened, but left out the bit where Gorm asked him to join team Plasma (Bianca was positively seething when he’d gotten to that part – he thought it best to not rile her up more.) Black is, honestly speaking, really confused about – well, just about everything. He really has no idea how he’s supposed to be feeling about the whole ordeal. About Team Plasma. Gorm had seemed reasonable. Ghetsis had seemed reasonable. Their ideas weren't wrong, per say.

That doesn't stop him from feeling really uneasy about it.

“Hey!” Bianca gasps loudly after a moment of companionable silence, startling both Black and Munna. “Hitomi, you’re, like, glowing!”

“I am?” 

“She is?” 

Bianca crouches down, gently placing Munna onto the swing as she does, to scritch Hitomi behind the ears. The Lillipup leans into the touch.

“You’re probably going to evolve soon,” Bianca chirps. “Congrats!” 

“That’s probably why you were feeling sick,” Black reasons, grinning. “Evolution sickness. That’s so cool! N-not that you were sick, obviously, b-but, you know.”

Hitomi doesn’t say anything. She lifts a paw for herself to look at, finding her fur indeed emitting a soft, warm and very much unnatural glow. 

“Is it okay?” she then asks in a carefully neutral tone.

Black frowns, confusion twisting his features. “What? Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I’m your guide Pokémon,” Hitomi replies calmly. “My foremost commitment is to you. I can’t have you thrown off by the change in me that evolution would bring. I wouldn't be the same.”

“Don’t you want to evolve?” It’s Bianca who speaks this time, still rubbing Hitomi’s skull with her fingertips. It feels really, really nice, and Hitomi finds her thoughts slightly too hazy for her to be having this conversation.

“That doesn’t matter,” she mumbles. 

“Of course it does,” Black says gently, kicking at the ground and sending himself swinging. A fond smile grazes his lips. “You can decide what feels the best. If you don’t want to evolve, you don’t have to. But don’t hold back because of me.”

Both Bianca and Hitomi glance at the boy, slightly surprised. Black isn't the most talkative of people, and even though he's kind, he's not exactly the type to hold encouraging speeches. Hitomi shrugs, slightly flustered by the prep talk. 

"'Kay," she mutters bashfully.

"Aww," Bianca coos. "I want a Lillipup."

"Catch one," Black offers absent-mindedly, still swinging, his head thrown back and a small, smile on his lips, his eyes closed. He looks happier than he has in a while. Bianca can't help but send a fond smile his way. 

"Maybe I will," she says as she picks Munna up and sits herself back on the other swing. The Psychic-type lets out a soft coo and goes back to snuggling against her chest."I still don't get why you have two."

Black scratches the back of his neck, a guilty flush tinting the tips of his ears pink. "Oh, um, yeah. I - I've been ignoring Scout a bit."

"I don't think he minds," Hitomi offers slightly sleepily from her spot curled up next to the swing set. 

"I m-mind, though," Black mumbles. Bianca hums thoughtfully.

"Okay, hey, I just had this great idea," she then chirps, bouncing up. Munna squeaks, startled, but doesn't struggle in her secure hold.

"I just caught a Purrloin, right?" she says, grabbing the chain on Black's swing. The boy blinks up at her, head tilted in confusion, as she continues on. "But he really doesn't seem to like me. Picky little shit. So, how would you feel about trading?"

"Trading Pokémon?" 

Bianca is bouncing on her heels. "Yeah! Scout for Jaspers. My Purrloin, that is. I know you wouldn't have trouble with him, and I'd promise to take, like, really good care of Scout. And you'd get to see him whenever you want!"

Black looks apprehensive at the idea, but to his and Bianca's surprise, Hitomi pipes up from where she's almost fallen asleep.

"That's not a bad idea," she says groggily. "We're really territorial, it'd only get worse when we," she yawns, "evolve."

The boy bites his lip and fishes out Scout's Poké Ball. It honestly is not a bad idea, as Hitomi said. Black feels more than a little guilty about even considering it, but the more he thinks it over, the more sense it makes. Scout would be happier with Bianca than with a trainer who ignores him in favor of his other Pokémon, or, even worse, stashes him in the PC system for the rest of his life. 

"W-well," Black finally says, still hesitant. "If you're sure?"

Bianca squeals and takes his hand. "Oh gosh, that's great! I trust you'll take good care of Jaspers."

They exchange Poké Balls.

Jaspers is a sleek, small Purrloin who, upon Black letting him out of the Ball, lands on the sandy ground with cat-like grace and glances around him nonchalantly. Hitomi cracks an eye open to stare him down, to which the Dark-type responds with a haughty glare. He doesn't hiss, doesn't bare his claws - just looks at her with an expression very much like a sneer.

"Hey, um, Jaspers?" Black crouches next to the Purrloin, who turns his yellow eyes towards his new trainer lazily. 

"Meow," Jaspers says, all dignified and solemn. 

"Yeah, you too," the boy chuckles as he blindly reaches a hand out, palm up, fingers curled. "I'm, your n-new trainer. That okay?"

Jaspers blinks at the offered hand. Then, slowly, like it's a great effort, he leans forward and bumps his nose against Black's fingers very gently. Black guesses that's cat-speech for 'I guess you'll do'.

"Nice to meet you too," the boy says warmly, and Jaspers lets out a very small, barely audible purr. 

Bianca giggles fondly from somewhere behind them. "Great, he likes you," she chirps. "Purrloin are really picky."

"Meow," Jaspers agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be short intermission chapters every now and then where I explore certain characters or relationships more throughoutly. Not a necessary read or anything, but sometimes cool stuff happens. Like Jaspers. Purrloin are cool.


	7. Chapter six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter six, in which there are conversations in the dark and dark conversations

"You both got so big!" Black wonders as he kneels down in front of his newly evolved Pokémon. 

He threads his fingers through Hitomi's coarse fur, his other palm cupping Nix's cheek, the Water-type's whiskers tickling his wrist. Hitomi's head comes up to Black's waist now; her body feels leaner and stronger, more graceful with her stubby legs having grown longer still, along with her neck. Nix is now shorter than her, but his soft peach fuzz fur has grown out into a sleek, slippery-shiny coat; the roundness of his body evened out and his arms longer with strong, webbed paws.

"Guess you won't be hitching a ride on my shoulders now," Black says to Nix. The Dewott nuzzles his palm and lets out a chirp - although it's more like a bark, now, and not the high-pitched sound he used to make. 

His evolution had come as a bit of a surprise, really. He'd had no evolution sickness aside from being a bit irritable - unlike Hitomi, who'd barely been able to walk in the end. Black smiles as he rubs her neck, feeling the once again relaxed muscles that feel stronger than ever. 

Evolution is, really, nothing like the dramatic and flashy event professional battlers on TV make it to be, Black muses. While it's true that he couldn't actually witness it with his own eyes, both Hitomi and Nix had assured him it really hadn't been a big deal. They'd been training on their own, taking down a couple of wild Pokémon as Black ate his lunch. Then, just like that, there had been a weird sound sort of like a firecracker going off, and poof - "I think I just evolved," Hitomi had said very warily. "Um - and Nix, too."

"Oh," Black had said with a huge grin. "That's great!"

That had literally been it. 

Jaspers leers at his newly-evolved teammates disdainfully. Then he scoffs and pushes between them and their trainer, nuzzling against Black's palm whilst sending Hitomi and Nix a smug cat-like smirk. He's really taken to his new trainer, but appears fiercely jealous of Black's other Pokémon - understandable, but getting to be rather infuriating, Hitomi thinks as she glares right back (but moves slightly to the side anyway to give Jaspers some space.)

They'd made the decision to try and get through Route 3 tonight - a mistake, really, as they hadn't taken into account how it was nothing like the two previous routes that had been cleared out. No, Route 3 was positively feral with towering pine trees, the road a mere unmaintained dirt path. It would've been hard enough for a backpack traveler to scramble through it even with their eyesight intact. 

After a few more hours of hopeless trekking it's getting really late and Nacrene is nowhere to be seen, heard or whatever. If something, the forest seems to be getting thicker. And colder.

"L-looks like we're gonna be sleeping outside," Black mumbles with trepidation. Luckily it's not freezing, but the dew's already set in and he's not going to start fucking around with a tent without a spare pair of opposable thumbs that belong to someone who can see what the hell they're doing. 

"Nacrene city can't be farther than a few hours of walking," Hitomi says. She's been guiding Black like she always has, pressed against his leg, and hasn't seemed to had any problems whatsoever with her newly evolved body - Black, however, will have to get used to the added weight of her. Still, at least he doesn't need to fear stepping on her.

Black bites his lip. He could maybe do a few more hours, but then he'd be too tired to do anything but sleep during the day, so... "Let's camp out."

They find a clearing. Black's backpack hits the ground with a thud, and the boy drapes himself over it, groaning as his spine cracks in protest. 

"Are you hungry?" he asks, yawning. It's probably well past midnight, and he's had a long day.

"No," Hitomi says. "But you might want to let Nix out of his ball. It's uncomfortable to sleep in."

"Oh, good to know. Also, don't you mean Nix _and_ Jaspers?"

The Herdier pauses like she's thinking about it. "No. Just Nix."

Black chuckles and digs the two Poké Balls from his pocket. Ignoring Hitomi's scoff he lets both Nix and the Purrloin out and dives into his backpack to dig around for some blankets for the Pokémon and a sleeping bag for himself. Nix plops down to sit on the grass, yawns, and leans against Hitomi groggily. Jaspers sneers at them and proceeds to curl up next to Black's sleeping bag.

Half-hour later Black is freezing and nowhere near to falling asleep. The dew has seeped through the sleeping bag and his t-shirt is uncomfortably damp. Maybe camping out hadn’t been such a genius idea after all.

He sits up after what feels like (and very possibly is) hours, runs his fingers through his mussed-up hair in frustration – it’s in desperate need of washing – and sighs. The Pokémon are fast asleep, three distinct breathing rhythms in the otherwise soundless night. No wonder they’re tired, really; they’ve been training pretty vigorously on their own. Black kind of feels guilty about that, but then again, it’s not his call – it’s only fair of him to let them roam free.

Doesn’t mean it’s not nerve-wrecking. Honestly, he's still pretty shaken from the whole Plasma thing. And the whole being a trainer thing. 

It's just that he needs some time to adjust. Nothing more.

Black shuffles out of his sleeping bag as quietly as he can. Usually the rustling would’ve woken Hitomi up, the sharp-eared Pokémon she is, but she only huffs in her sleep, completely tuckered out.

The clearing they'd set camp in isn’t big, but Hitomi had said there was a lake just next to it. Black carefully fumbles his way through the branches and bushes and to the waterside, clad only in a worn-out t-shirt and shorts, and sits down on the brink, dipping his fingers in. The water isn’t cold, but it’s not warm, either. Black kind of wants to strip down and dive in, but he knows better.

“Hello, Black.”

The noise Black makes is definitely not a squeal, because that would be really lame of him.

He jumps up and trips on his feet, only avoiding diving head-first into the lake because a long-fingered hand grabs his own and steadies him.

“Did I startle you?”

Black knows that voice.

He yanks his hand away, face flushing as he realizes how he must look like.

"Um - e-N?" he asks shyly and tugs at the hem of his shirt. He suddenly realizes how fucking cold it is and why oh why did he think sleeping in his shorts would be a good idea?

"Yes, that's right," N says, voice completely flat and neutral like the whole situation isn't completely weird. Like, they're in the middle of the woods. The route doesn't even go through here. Black's not wearing clothes. What's going on.

Then again, recalling their last meeting, Black figures he shouldn't be so surprised.

"S-so, er," Black croaks out after a moment of very painfully awkward silence. "You um. H-how, eh, how are you?"

Damn. Smooth.

N doesn't seem fazed by his lack of social skills. "Fine."

Maybe it's because he's at least just as lacking in that department as Black.

Black shuffles his feet uncomfortably. “D-did you want to, s-s-sit down, or, something?”

“Why?”

“Oh – It’s, it’s more c-comfortable, I g-guess?”

“Okay.”

The air shifts; Black assumes the man’s sat down and follows his example, subtly tugging his shirt to cover his crotch as he does. He can’t tell what N is thinking and if he even cares that Black’s not wearing any pants, but he cares, damn it.

“Where are your Pokémon?” N asks. He’s still got that habit of talking really fast; Black can barely make out the words.

“Oh, they’re sleeping,” he answers. Then, as an afterthought as well as a desperate conversation starter, he adds: “t-they, um, evolved, by the way.”

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but a disgusted scoff isn’t really it.

“Typical. You trainers don’t care about anything but strength.”

Black frowns, defensive, but swallows the snappish comeback that's on his lips. "Um, t-that's, not what I m-meant at all," he mumbles instead, opting to at least try and act civil. "B-besides, aren't you a t-trainer too?"

N grunts but doesn't answer. Black briefly wonders if he's offended him, but honestly, he's tired, ornery and doesn't really care. This guy comes out of nowhere in the middle of the night to throw accusations at him; Black doesn't have any obligations to be nice, damn it.

You're a good person. 

"...um, so, I still don't really k-know who you a-are? What are you doing h-here?" Black asks, voice as kind as he can manage. N scoffs again, and, wow, Black really has to bite his tongue to keep himself from lashing out. This guy had seemed much more sociable back when they'd met at Accumula.

"I told you. My name's N."

"T-that's not... really... um, okay then." And that's it, he's done.

Black's about to give up and head back to his Pokémon, but as starts pushing himself off the ground, N's bony hand grabs his own. Black flinches. Guy's got really cold fingers.

"Um-"

"I..." the man says, hesitates. "I came looking for you."

Okay then. "W-why?" Black asks, confused but also slightly irritable. N lets his hand slide away.

"I don't know," he admits, sounding confused. "I... want to see things no one can see. The truths of Pokémon inside Poké Balls. The ideals of how Trainers should be. And a future where Pokémon have become perfect. And I felt, back in Accumula - you're the same."

Black sinks back down on the ground, head reeling. "I. W-what?"

"You feel the same, don't you?" N's voice is urgent. Desperate, even, and Black has no choice but to shrug weakly.

"I. Um, sure?"

N lets out a breathy laugh. It sounds really weird like it pains him somehow, like he's startled by the sound, but it's also so filled with relief Black can't help but smile a little. Though he pretty much has no idea what this guy is talking about half the time, he's oddly endearing, in a slightly stalker-y but seemingly harmless way. Seriously. Guy with a letter for a name comes out of nowhere in the middle of the night to talk about nonsense. Alarm bells should be ringing right about now.

But instead Black just kind of feels slightly warm inside.

"That so?" N then says, sounding slightly pleased. "I was right, then. You can see that future, too."

"I can't really see anything," Black blurts out without thinking. "Blind, remember? Just, you know, so you don't get your h-hopes up."

The silence stretches. Black feels his ears heating up with embarrassment - fucking blind jokes, he swears to God. They've always been his weakness. It had just been there, he'd had to take it!

Then N makes a noise that can't be described as anything but a chuckle and Black lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

The silence that follows is one part awkward and two parts companionable. Only when Black starts trembling from the cold he remembers that yes, he is indeed not wearing any pants and it's probably about ten degrees out, and shoots an apologetic glance in N's general direction.

"It's, er, r-really late," he says tentatively.

"Yes, it is," the man agrees, cheerfully oblivious to what Black is implying.

"I should. Y-you know. Go."

"Oh," N says. "Right." But Black doesn't hear him move and this just got really incredibly awkward - it's not like he can just turn tail and leave the man sitting there by himself, can he?

"Where, um," he says, hesitating, "where're you headed?"

"Nacrene."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"Us too."

"I gathered."

"So um. M-maybe we'll, s-see you there?"

"Perhaps."

"Okay. Yeah." Black scrambles up and tugs at the hem of his shirt again, his ears burning. "G-good night, then."

"Yes."

Black has never fled from a conversation so fast in his life.

He trips on a few roots and gets slapped in the face by a pine tree branch, but in the end he does end up back in their camp with only minor injuries. There he proceeds to accidentally kick Nix squarely in the butt, and his pained yowl, in turn, wakes up Hitomi and Jaspers, who immediately start hissing -growling groggily at each other.

Black can't even find it in himself to care about them right now - he crawls back into his sleeping back, cheeks flushed and ears hot with embarrassment, and wills himself to sleep.

He oversleeps next morning, and Hitomi, in a rare display of thoughtfulness, lets him.

 

\- - -

 

"Baby bro!" 

White isn't exactly a small girl - she's almost a head taller than Black and much fitter, with toned arms and broad shoulders. Black himself isn't all that small, either, but he's more baby fat and gentle curves, a far cry from White's toned sharp edges.

So when his sister throws herself all over him without holding back, it's understandable that Black's almost knocked over. Hitomi yips and quickly sidesteps to avoid getting stepped on.

"White," Black wheezes and embraces his sister, if only to gently pry her off of him and place her back on the ground. She giggles and flips the visor of his cap playfully.

"You made it!" the girl sings. "You took so long! It's rude to keep your sister waiting, you know. I almost left already."

Hitomi lets out an annoyed huff, and Black nudges her with the toe of his shoe, a gentle warning.

"You're not s-staying?" he asks, doing his best to keep his tone level, though he isn't sure if it's disappointment or relief he's fighting to keep out of his voice. White grabs him by the shoulder firmly and leads him in the Nacrene gate, sits him down on a bench.

"Nah," she says cheerfully. "I was planning on going all the way to Castelia yesterday, but then you called. I stayed the night so we could meet up." Then, in a quieter voice, she continues: "hey - you all right, then?"

Black smiles and nods, absently toying with Jaspers' ears as the Dark-type reclines on his trainer's lap. "Yeah. It was, uh, n-nothing."

"You're stuttering," White notes. Black can nearly feel the sharp look she's most likely giving him.

"I d-do that a lot, in case you haven't n-noticed," he retorts dryly.

"Not with me, you don't," she counters, and, well, that's a fair point she has there. Then she sighs and Black can hear the bench creaking as she leans back.

"I," White starts and clears her throat. "I don't want things to get weird between us."

That's it. That's all she says, and Black's throat is suddenly so tight he can't speak. Jaspers hisses softly and Black realizes he's been tugging at the Pokémon's fur too tightly.

"White," he says then, "I think things have been a b-bit weird between us f-for a w-w-while. Like, s-seven years."

He hears his sister's soft sigh. "Don't joke about that. We're fine. We're fine, right?"

"If you say so."

"I say so."

"Okay, then we're f-fine."

"But you're still stuttering!"

"S-sorry."

"Ugh." The bench creaks again as White jumps up. Hitomi follows the girl with her eyes disdainfully. She has never been too fond of White, to be honest. All she seems to do is make Black feel guilty and bad about himself - that's what Hitomi thinks, anyway.

"Wanna grab some coffee?" the girl asks, their conversation buried for now. Hitomi watches as Black shrugs and lets his sister pull him up.

"Weren't you in a hurry?"

"Well, no, I can -"

Black smiles at her sweetly. "Just, just go on ahead. W-we'll probably m-meet up at Castelia City with C-Cheren and Bianca anyway, right?"

He hears White's sigh and then she gently elbows him in the ribs. "Your call."

Black declines the offer of coffee, but he does let his sister walk him through Nacrene and to the Pokécenter. Nix and Hitomi trail after them, claws clattering on the worn cobblestone roads.

Nacrene isn't a small town, but compared to Striaton there is very minimal traffic, which Black is immensely grateful for. All around town floats a very distinctive scent, the delicious mixture of linseed oil, fresh coffee and pot. The air is buzzing with the soft murmur of people sitting on terraces, enjoying the sunny autumn day, and someone somewhere is playing a violin; a cheerful, light melody filling the air.

The twins bid each other goodbye and White leaves after giving Black one of her trademark bear hugs. Hitomi guides Black inside the Center; she and Nix aren’t in need of medical attention, their recent evolutions having upped their strength considerably, but Jaspers is tired and cranky enough for both of them. Black leaves the unwilling Dark-type with the nurse and heads out to check out the town. 

Hitomi leads him to the outskirts of Nacrene, where a field spreads out all the way to Pinwheel forest. The weather is cold; Black can feel the cool sunlight on his skin, but a frosty breeze bites at his cheeks relentlessly. 

“Watch your step,” Hitomi says absently. She’s now big enough that Black can rest his palm on top of her head, rub his thumb gently against her skull as they walk. 

There’s a loud splash from somewhere to their right, and Black starts. 

“It’s Nix,” the Herdier says calmly before Black can even open his mouth to ask. “He found a puddle.”

Black smiles as he hears the gleeful yapping of his Dewott, followed by more splashing sounds and the distressed cawing of what he thinks must be Ducklett fleeing from the overexcited Water-type. 

“Dork,” Black calls out to him fondly. Nix barks happily in response. 

“What’s it look like?” Black asks wistfully after a while. "Pinwheel field?" Hitomi leans against his thigh.

“It’s big,” she says. “Wide. No trees until the edge of the forest. There’s some tall grass, a few hills. There’s a – that thing trains go on –“

“Railroad tracks,” Black supplies.

“Yes, those. But they’re broken.”

They stand in comfortable silence for a while. Then Nix barks, an agitated sound that makes Black flinch and Hitomi perk up.

“Nix, you okay?” the boy calls, turning his head towards the source of the sound.

The urgent pitter-patter of webbed feet is his answer. Nix rushes to him, yapping and whining in discomfort. He bumps his forehead gently against Black's thigh, sinks his claws into the fabric of his trainer's pant leg and glances fearfully over his shoulder.

"That's..." Hitomi can't stifle a snicker. "Black, it's okay. Nix found a friend."

She watches in amusement as a very tiny and very friendly little Tympole waddles awkwardly up to Nix. The small Pokémon chirrups and bumps her head against the Dewott's hip in an obvious attempt to get his attention. Nix sends a Hitomi a slightly terrified and pleading look as he inches away from the Tympole, only to have her waddle right after him and cuddle up to his leg.

"What's that?" 

"It's a," Hitomi searches for the human name, "Tympole. She seems to be rather infatuated with your Dewott, Black."

"Oh really?" Black's voice is amused, and he crouches down, reaches out his hand. The rather friendly little Water-type immediately abandons pursuing Nix and instead wobbles over to nuzzle against the boy's palm, chirping happily.

"You're a friendly one, aren't you?" Black says gently. "Do you mind if I catch you?"

Tympole nibbles at his sleeve.

"I'll take that as a no." Black slides his backpack off carefully as to not startle the tiny Pokémon and fishes out an empty Poké Ball from one of the pockets. "Steady now," he says as he bumps the capsule against Tympole's forehead; she disappears from underneath his fingers and the Poké Ball grows warm in his hand. 

"That was significantly less violent than my past experiences with catching Pokémon," Black says as he stands up. 

"I reckon that one wasn't all there in the wits department," Hitomi comments dryly. Black send a reprimanding look her way but can't help the smile that's tugging at his lips. 

Nix barks and tugs at the hem of Black's sweater as they start heading back to town.

"He wants to know why you need another Water-type on your team," Hitomi translates. Black's fingers resting on top of her head tap her skull thoughtfully.

"I didn't think of that," he says. "It's not very wise, is it? I don't want to box her, though. That'd be cruel."

"Your team. Your call."

"Yeah," Black says absently. "I have to think about it."

The rest of the walk back to the city is spent in comfortable silence. 

It's getting late, but Nacrene isn't sleeping - the main street is full of people enjoying the potentially last tolerably warm evening of the year; little restaurants and food stands and tiny trinket shops along the cobblestone roads are bursting with customers. The flow of people makes it slightly hard for Hitomi to safely guide Black through, but the boy doesn't really seem to mind - and, for once, neither does she. The atmosphere is electrifying and makes her head feel wonderfully fuzzy. Round paper lanterns hang in between the warehouse buildings and illuminate the streets with warm, soothing orange light. 

Hitomi perks up at the spicy, exotic aroma of oriental food that wafts through the air. Black suddenly remembers he hasn't eaten all day, and that his Pokémon must be equally hungry. Hitomi leads him to a small kiosk that advertises the best Kanto food in town, and he buys enough to fill up his army of tiny monsters and then some. Jaspers, who they'd picked up from the Center, climbs up in Black's lap to nip at his food, and Nix reluctantly shares his fried berries with Roxie the Tympole. A small band is playing jazz music at the end of the street. 

Hitomi looks at Black, at his grinning face as he lets Jaspers steal bits of his food, the way he unconsciously taps his foot to the music. He looks properly happy, which is a nice change. Hitomi had worried about the whole deal with Musharna and Plasma - it had shaken him up, even though he did take it like a trooper.

Hitomi smiles, blissfully oblivious of a pair of hooded figures watching them from the shadows.


	8. Chapter seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Black catches a break, for a while

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I ACCIDENTALLY UPLOADED THE EIGHT CHAPTER INSTEAD OF THIS... Thank you so much Yuutousei for pointing it out, I should never edit when I'm sick and tired. Hope nobody got confused. Here's chapter SEVEN,

Black loves Nacrene. The people are lovely, streets too narrow and crowded for cars, and the food is to die for. He hasn't been this content and comfortable since he left home.

His Pokémon, though, are getting restless after a day and a half of doing absolutely nothing. After a group call with his sister, Bianca and Cheren, they'd agreed on meeting up in three days' time, which leaves Black two whole days to do nothing but laze around - but his team, especially one temperamental Herdier, isn't having any of it. 

"You're not gonna challenge Lenora?" Hitomi asks him, shocked, when they're having breakfast in a small café with soft plush bean bags for chairs. Black shrugs dismissively and chews his croissant thoughtfully, sinking further into the cushion.

"Yeah, because the last gym battle went so well," he says, voice laced with sarcasm and more than a little defensive as he cards his fingers absently through Jaspers' fur. The Liepard purrs and nuzzles his cheek, buries his face into Black's neck. Black absentmindedly feeds him the rest of his croissant. 

Hitomi's voice is irritable when she responds. "You're better prepared now. You have the levels, you have the experience." She's getting agitated, her words breaking into a growl.

An unhappy chuckle escapes Black's mouth, but he turns his head away from the Herdier in an obviously evasive gesture. "L-leave it, Hitomi."

It's the barely noticeable stutter in the boy's words that holds Hitomi back from pressing the subject. She snaps her mouth shut and moodily sits back on her bean bag. 

She loves Black. She really does, and it's her duty as a working Pokémon to endeavor to be the best guide and companion she can, but sometimes the boys defeatist attitude makes her want to give up. He's never been the most confident of people, and that Hitomi can understand, but the fact that he's so ready to give up on anything he finds remotely difficult or uncomfortable - that Hitomi never has and never will stand for. She knows Black has always accepted his role as a wallflower who's never going to amount to very much, but hell if his meekness doesn't make her furious. 

A scathing prep talk is on the tip of her tongue, but then she looks up at him. Lounging on the bean bag, one hand around Jaspers and the other scratching absentmindedly behind Nix's ear Black looks comfortable - content, even. It's a good look on him, and Hitomi's anger dies down. She huffs and returns to her breakfast.

The silence is tense until Black sighs. "I'll think about it, okay?" he says quietly.

It's not good enough for Hitomi, but she grunts in response, a non-committal sound.

After breakfast they head out to Pinwheel field, due to Nix's insistence and lack of anything better to do. The weather is colder than it had been yesterday; Black can feel the crunching of frosty grass under his shoes as they roam the massive grasslands. He can't feel sunlight on his face, and Hitomi tells him the sky's all grey and that they should maybe head back because it's definitely going to rain. Black agrees; the air is tangy and humming with the charged expectation of a good autumn storm. 

A few people want to battle him, and Black grudgingly obliges. Hitomi guides him as patiently as ever, relays him everything that's happening in a soft voice. It pains and at the same time delights her to see how great a battler Black actually is. When he eases into it, it all seems to come to him naturally - he has intuition and incisiveness Hitomi has never ever seen him possess, and a rather spectacular way of knowing just when his Pokémon are at their limit. Nix and Jaspers are growing used to it as well - growing used to him. They know to be vocal enough for Black to hear and they have no trouble improvising when his commands are imprecise or late. Hitomi gets her fair share of brawling as well, but lays off when she sees how much Black dislikes having her on the battlefield.

Jaspers evolves after a rather tough tussle with a few Tympole, and Black's face just lights up when he rubs his newly evolved Liepard's skull lovingly. Hitomi watches from a distance, scowling to herself; not at the display of affection (although she honestly does not like that smug little pussycat), but because she can read her partner like an open book. It's clear Black wants this. It's painfully obvious how much he'd like to battle and see his Pokémon grow and evolve and how badly he wants to win, to triumph, to be great at something for a change. And the sad thing? It's that the only thing holding him back is his own fear. 

The first droplets of cool autumn rain fall on Hitomi's nose.

It's then, watching Black coo softly at the Dark-type who's smugly soaking up the attention, that Hitomi makes a decision. The weight of it settles in her stomach and makes the fur on her neck stand up. 

She will make that boy a Champion if it means giving up her life. 

They return to Nacrene much later. Nix, Hitomi and Jaspers are battle-tired and Black is just generally tired and they're all soaking wet from the rain. The boy heads straight to the Pokécenter and leaves his weary companions with the nurse, his Herdier included.

He makes his way to the waiting rooms and folds himself in a lumpy armchair, wet sweatshirt flung over his shoulder, shirt clinging to his skin. It's uncomfortable, but he won't head to the motel to change without his Pokémon. 

The busy hum of the Center surrounds him, people's voices mixing with the whirring of machinery and the rain hammering against the roof panels, and for a change the loud noises don't make Black feel anxious at all. His feet are sore from walking and he's more than a little weary all over, but there is an excited energy thrumming through him unlike anything he's felt in a long time. 

Black leans back. Today has been nice. Battling had been nice. Had made him feel dizzy from the rush of adrenaline, leaving him light-headed and feeling like he could do anything he wanted. 

His name is called after a while and he snaps out of his musings, heads to the nurse's desk to receive his Pokémon: Nix and Jaspers in their respective Poké Balls and Hitomi pitter-patting primly round the desk and sitting neatly at his feet.

"You know," the nurse, a stern young lady, calls after Black just before he's about to leave. "It's perfectly legal to use working Pokémon in casual battling, but you might get in trouble if you use her in an official match."

The boy stops in his tracks and turns back to her. Hitomi flattens her ears and shoots the nurse a suspicious glance.

"Um, what?" Black says intelligently. The nurse hums, thoughtful, and taps the Poké Ball Black's holding - Nix's Ball.

"Your Herdier," she clarifies. "You've been battling with her. I'm saying that if you were to use a Pokémon without a Poké Ball registered in your name in, say, a Gym battle, you could face some rather inconvenient legal actions if something were to happen."

Black blinks, dazed. "So you're s-saying..."

The nurse huffs, her patience clearly wearing thin. "I'm saying you should capture her and make your ownership of her official. Trust me - you don't want to get tangled up in the League's legal issues."

"Uh - um, thanks for t-the tip, I guess."

"You're welcome. Now scram, you're holding up the line." She tuts at Black and shoos them off with a light shove at his shoulder. 

It's pouring when they make it to the motel. Hitomi's miserably wet and smells of wet dog, and even though Black's always kind of liked storms he has to admit being cold and soaked gets boring really fast. He strips his wet clothes and wraps himself up in a comforter before fetching a towel to dry Hitomi off with. 

After a moment of silence the Herdier says something, her voice muffled by the fabric.

"What?" 

Hitomi wriggles away from Black. "I said," she repeats sharply. "I think you should catch me in a Poké Ball if it makes things easier for you."

Black frowns, dropping his hands and the towel in his lap. "She said it only matters in official matches," he says stubbornly. "We won't be doing any of those soon, so why does it matter?"

"Why are you so against it, then, if it doesn't matter? Don't you want to catch me?"

The question comes off more loaded as she'd intended, and the silence that falls after it is surprised. Black slowly sets the towel aside and kneels down on the floor, surprisingly graceful for a boy wrapped up in a patchwork quilt. 

"I d-don't want to hold t-that kind of power over y-you," he says, and, despite the stutter, manages to keep his voice level. He's frowning, brows furrowed in confusion. "I d-don't want to own you."

Hitomi is taken aback, a warm fondness welling inside her, her frustration subsiding. "It wouldn't be like that."

"D-Do you really want me to?" 

The Herdier nods solemnly. 

Black breathes out softly. "Alright. G-get me a Ball."

As she does, Hitomi hides a triumphant smile. They're one step closer.

 

The wind blows bitingly against Black's face, razor-sharp droplets of water whipping at his cheeks. He wraps his scarf tighter around his neck, fingers curled around the ruff of Hitomi's neck. The weather has taken a turn to the worse (cats, dogs, old ladies and whatnot) and Black really wishes they would've ordered takeout for dinner instead of going out in this storm. Then again, there is a Kalos place on Museum street that supposedly has the best crêpes in Unova - Black just hopes they're worth getting absolutely drenched for.

He's wiping his wet face with his equally soaked sleeve when Hitomi suddenly halts, Black's fingers slipping from her wet fur. He nearly stumbles in surprise.

"What is it?"

"It's him," the Herdier spits. Black can barely hear her over the pouring rain. "It's the guy from Accumula."

Black perks up at the sound of wet footsteps approaching them. 

"Hello again, Black," N's voice quips right into Black's ear, causing him to flinch in surprise. 

"Ah - um - hi N," he replies uncertainly and manages a small smile, still wiping droplets of water from his face. He can feel the warmth of N's body right next to him, uncomfortably close.

Hitomi nudges his leg, clearly dismayed about how familiar the other man is being - that's right, Black thinks suddenly, he didn't mention their surprise encounter in the woods to her. 

"I need to speak to your Pokémon again," N says promptly, still way too close, his fingers curled around the sleeve of Black's sweater (when did that happen?) and voice urgent. "I need you to battle us."

"Here?" Black blurts out before he can stop himself. "Now?" 

The man nods vehemently, Black can feel the droplets of water from his hair splattering onto his own face. He's cold and wet and miserable and there's a downpour of Biblical proportions going on around them, and the only appropriate answer to N's bizarre and very badly timed request would be a resounding hell no, so, naturally, after a long pause, Black nods uncertainly.

"O-okay." 

Hitomi is the only one to see the warm grin spreading over N's face, but the sight of it definitely doesn't make her any less unnerved. There's something twisted about that man, she thinks, as she obediently guides Black to follow N. It's not that he's too eccentric, that Hitomi could work around - it's like the air around him is charged with a sense of purpose so strong it's sucking in everything that comes too close. 

Hitomi shakes her head. This is no time to wax poetic. 

The streets are empty, as no one in their right minds would go out in weather like this, so they needn't go far to find a square big enough for a battle. Nix goes first, taking N's Pidove down with ease. He steps aside to let Jaspers handle the Tympole that follows, and proceeds to beat N's final pokemon, a Timburr, with one clean attack. It's over in five minutes. 

The storm howls around them as N recalls his fainted companion. He walks back to where Black and Hitomi are standing, muttering to himself.

"Thank you," he says over the howling of the wind, voice unreadable. "Thank you, Black. "

"Um - "

"I need to go," he carries on firmly. "And you need to get stronger."

The warmth of him goes away and Black can hear the wet footsteps walking away - just like that.

After a moment of stunned silence, Hitomi nudges his leg. 

"Let's go find someplace warm," she suggests over the raging storm. Black, slightly dazed, agrees with enthusiasm.  
Two blocks down N is greeted by a pair of hooded figures. He glances back at where he'd left Black standing, then nods at his companions shortly.

As Black and Hitomi step through massive doors Black thanks all of the deities for indoor heating. It's not the Kalos restaurant, but it was the nearest place still open at this hour, and it's the Nacrene Museum. It smells like a museum, Black thinks, as he follows Hitomi through the hallway. Like dust and paper and Old Things. It's nice, he supposes. At least better than freezing outside.

"Ah, excuse me, young man!" a chipper voice calls. Black turns his head towards the approaching footsteps, heels clacking on marble floor. 

"Museum attendant," Hitomi tells him and seizes up the woman critically. She's dressed in a blue suit with a nametag on her chest, smiling lips colored an unflattering pink. She seems out of place in the museum's regal solemnity, surrounded by ancient artifacts and whatnot. 

"Um, yes?" Black says meekly, shooting a timid smile her way. 

"We're closing the museum soon. But if you're here to challenge Lenora, her business hours technically only end at ten' o'clock - you might make it if you head down now." 

"Lenora?" Black repeats incredulously. Hitomi looks up at him, feeling as confused as he sounds, then back at the attendant. The woman smiles at them tightly.

"The Gym leader?" she offers, slightly condescending. "Goodness, don't you know? This is the Nacrene Gym."

"I t-thought this was the Nacrene Museum!" Black fiddles with the sleeve of his sweater.

The attendant tuts at him. "It's both. I thought the giant sign outside would've told you as much."

"I'm blind," Black snaps back at her, not at all impressed by the patronizing tone. She splutters, offering meek apologies, but Hitomi has already tugged Black along. 

"This is what you humans call fate," she tells him gleefully. Black can feel the battle-excitement thrumming through her muscles, the uncharacteristic cheer in her voice, and he frowns as he realizes where she's going with this.

"No," he snaps sharply and stops on his tracks. "Hitomi, do you hear me, no. We're not doing that."

"Are you sure?" she asks slyly. "The gym is literally right there."

"Positive. O-over my d-dead body."

 

"So, challenger Black!" Lenora booms as Black shuffles awkwardly on the challenger's side of the arena, frowning at where he can feel Hitomi pressing against his leg. He can almost feel the smugness around her. Little bugger. How did she manage to talk him into this?

"You're out late," the Nacrene gym leader continues and claps Black on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble as she passes him by. "But how could I say no to a handsome young man like yourself! What brings you to my Gym at this hour, dear?" 

She grins at them; Hitomi offers her a small, rare grin. Now there is a lady she can definitely respect - Lenora's three heads taller than Black with arms like logs, and she smells like Pokémon food (the good kind.) The gym itself is nice, too - a definite improvement from the sterile-looking Museum, all dark wood and dim lights, and books, books everywhere, books lining the walls, books piled up on the floors. 

"It was - it was, um, a s-spur of the moment thing, r-really," Black mumbles and steps on Hitomi's paw. Accidentally. While standing still. "We um, we can go if it's in-inconvenient-"

"Nonsense!" Lenora bellows good-naturedly as she stomps to the other end of the arena. "Nothing gives me a sweet dreams like a little late-night tussle. Don't make that face at me, young man, you know that's not how I meant it. Now then! Standard official rules... you have your Striaton badge... we're all set, don't you think? Whenever you're ready, sweetie!"

Black's fingers tremble as he fishes out Nix's Poké Ball, but Hitomi nudges his hand. "How about let me take this one?" she suggests carefully. Black looks like he's about to protest, but the Herdier rushes to add, "I'm stronger than Nix and it'd give you time to get used to it. You can trust me."

He hesitates. Hitomi notices how he's looking decidedly less green than when he did around the time of the disaster that was the Striaton Gym battle. He looks more collected. Wound up, maybe, but less like he's about to throw up.

"I t-trust you," Black says slowly, gives her neck ruff one last squeeze before untangling his fingers from her fur. Hitomi nudges his knee affectionately as she strides past him and onto the field. Black's fingers find her Poké Ball in his pocket, the smooth metal cool and soothing underneath his fingertips. 

"Go, Hitomi," he murmurs for good measure, surprising himself with how calm he sounds.

The Herdier stands on the edge of the arena, stance confident and muscles thrumming with battle-eagerness. She meets Lenora's eyes. 

"Let's have it, then," Hitomi says. Black chuckles at her cockiness. 

"How interesting," the Gym leader says, voice still laden with amusement but her gaze steely as she regards her opponents. "I hope your bite is as bad as your bark, you peculiar little Pokémon. Go, Trevor!"

Lenora's Herdier bursts out of his Ball with a flash of light and lands gracefully on the carpeted floor. His intelligent eyes flick from the other Herdier to her trainer and he lets out a menacing battle-growl. Hitomi stands her ground, baring her teeth at him, but Black flinches. His Dex informs him in a cool mechanical voice of Trevor's species, type and levels, and he bites his lip. 

"Okay, Hitomi," he says with confidence he doesn't feel. "You got this. Work up, then Take Down!"

Hitomi steels herself while Lenora's Herdier leers at him. She gathers her energy, feels the warmth of it rushing through her, and springs to action. 

It's not an easy fight, but Hitomi doesn't back out. Trevor's attacks are better executed and hurt more than those of the untrained Pokémons' Hitomi had battled earlier that day, but she attacks mercilessly, half trusting her instinct and half listening to Black's calls as he listens to what's going on. He sounds calm, gathered, even, and Hitomi feels a rush of fondness and pride at the sound of it. 

She slams herself forcefully against the other Herdier. He's knocked back, slides on the floor, and doesn't get back up. Hitomi breathes heavily; lifts her gaze to Lenora, who's regarding her with silent approval.

"Trevor, return." Instead of disappearing into a flash of red recall light the Herdier stumbles on his feet and limps back to his trainer. 

"Impressive - both of you," the woman bellows. "Let's try this one for size, then."

She sends out her next Pokémon, and Black gnaws at his lip as he listens to his Dex's monotone voice telling him the Watchog's levels and abilities. 

"Hitomi, return," he calls out after a moment and waits until he feels the familiar weight of her back at his side. His fingers are tingling, adrenaline is pumping in his veins, muting the fear and apprehension he'd been feeling in the beginning - Black realizes, slightly amazed, that he's actually kind of enjoying this. 

His fingers find Nix's Poké Ball without effort, and the Water-type lets out a fierce cry as he's let out of his confinement. The sound sends another thrilling rush of excitement through Black, and he can feel Hitomi tensing next to him, just as eager as he is. 

"Nix, Razor Shell!" Black calls. The Dewott whips out his scalchops and throws himself at the Watchog, mouth twisted in a toothy smirk. Two slashes of his scalchops and an easily dodged Hypnosis attack later Nix finishes the Watchog off with ease, having taken barely any damage himself. He huffs, deposits his scalchops back to his sides, and whoops gleefully. 

Black crouches, grinning widely, and spreads his arms in an invitation. The Dewott patters back to him and sinks into the embrace, chirping excitedly into Black's ear.

"Nicely d-done," the boy says sincerely. He's feeling rather dizzy and the tremor in his hands is returning as the adrenaline high subsides, but honestly, Black's really glad. He's glad this battle had been such a far cry from Striaton. He's glad his Pokémon are all okay. And, he has to admit, he's really, really glad he's won. 

He finds himself thinking - is this what it's supposed to feel like? If it is, then he could maybe consider giving this whole thing another go. 

A strong hand claps him on the back. 

"Well done," Lenora says, approval evident in her voice. Hitomi looks up at her, and she winks at the Herdier. "Hold out your hand, sugar - here, you've really earned this one. That was a clean victory."

A piece of metal is dropped onto Black's palm. It's a familiar moment, one Black's lived before, but now it makes him feel proud and happy instead of absolutely terrified and guilty. He feels his face twisting into a boyish grin as he closes his fingers around the badge.

"Thank you," he says and is pleased to notice how strong and stutter-free his voice is sounding. "Thank you, Ms. Lenora."

"Mrs.," she corrects good-naturedly and grabs his free hand to pull him up. "My husband is a researcher at the museum."

"Oh."

"Now, dear," Lenora presses on, shaking the hand she's still holding vigorously. "I would absolutely love to invite you for a cuppa, but I'm an old woman and have to retire to my quarters before midnight or no amount of caffeine will get me up in the morning. Off you go!"

Black goes, smiling as he does. 

The weather is even fouler than before, but Black barely even notices. He has one hand curled in the fur on Hitomi's neck, the other holding Nix's clawed paw, and he feels happier than he can remember being in a long while. He's humming as they walk to the motel, and when they arrive, sopping wet and dripping water everywhere, the grin still hasn't left his face. 

Black barely has managed to rid himself of his wet clothes before he feels the wave of happy exhaustion washing over him. He sinks in the lumpy motel bed and is asleep in seconds, Hitomi curled up in his feet and Nix against his side. 

 

It's six in the morning when the call comes.

The insistent buzzing of his Xtransreceiver shakes Black awake. He reaches blindly for it, tiredly brings it to his ear.

"Mmyeah?" he mumbles into it, groggily pinching the bridge of his nose.

_"Black?"_ Cheren's urgent voice says from the other end.

"D'ya know wha' time it is?" Black just wants to go back to sleep. Sleep is good. Cheren isn't.

_"You still in Nacrene?"_

"Mm. Why?"

_"You need to come to the Museum,"_ Cheren says seriously. _"And you need to come now."_

Black sits up, wide awake. "What's going on?" Nix stirs and chirrups tiredly next to him.

_"There's been a... shit, I don't know,"_ the other boy says urgently. 

_"The Museum, it's... it's all gone, Black. They blew it up."_


End file.
